


Three World War

by Jasontodd908



Category: Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Adultery, Amazons - Freeform, Angst, Atlantis, Comfort, Darkseid - Freeform, Death, Elseworld, F/M, Fatherhood, Goddess of War, Gotham, Invasion, Loss, Sadness, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:48:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 47,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24695548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jasontodd908/pseuds/Jasontodd908
Summary: After the death of Superman following the invasion of Earth by Darkseid, Diana makes a choice that saves the world but corrupts her. Now? She is the goddess of war, dedicated to destroying everything and creating an unquenchable flame to serve as a memorial to her loss. With the strength of Atlantis by her side she is poised to spread her misery to the world. However, two broken hearts find each other in the escape of Queen Mera, and a symbol, long fallen into disuse, rises from the ashes to make things right.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne/Mera, Deadshot/Harley Quinn, Diana/Arthur Curry, Past Bruce Wayne/Diana, The Batman/Queen Mera, Vic Sage/Helena Bertenelli, Vic Sage/OC
Comments: 26
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**_Gotham City_ **

She was running as fast as she could, ducking splinters and any of the other death dealing items that were saturating the air. She quickly moves over a box, vaulting practically to try and hide from her attackers. Her hand goes up to her ear, switching on the comm link. 

“Bruce, this is Huntress, do you read me?” she whispers, the sound of battle raging all around her helping to disguise her position. Or so she hoped.

The ear piece crackles to life, causing the dark haired woman to wince in fear. “Huntress, we read you. What is your situation?” he asks, business as usual. “The whole thing is fucked Bruce. Beyond fucked” she says, casting a worried and cautious look over the box, scanning for any approaching foes. 

“What happened?” interjects another voice, a ship directly across from her in the harbor exploding as a direct hit by one of the Atlantean artillery pieces is scored on the bow. “It was an ambush from the minute we got her. Firestorm wasn’t hiding out here Bruce. He was already dead. The Amazons were waiting for us instead”.

Silence is the only thing that greets her from the other end of the line, and she becomes even more desperate. “Say something dammit!” she hisses in anger, fear gripping her heart like an icy hand. “Who else is alive?”

“I have no idea. Me, for the time being” she says, laughing lightly to herself. Her face goes slack and she closes her eyes, shaking her head in shock. “They killed Tim Bruce. It was quick” she relays, having indeed watched the former Robin and protege of the Batman fall in battle, an Amazonian sword plunged into his chest.

“No” a shocked and already tear stained voice comes in from the other end, and Huntress already knows that it’s Barbara. “Im sorry Oracle” she says, trying to comfort the man’s wife. ‘Dammit, how is she going to tell the kids?’ her mind going to the dark haired children of Tim and Barbara Drake. 

“I’m coming to get you” Bruce says, his voice filled with resolve. “That would be useless Bruce” comes a response, though it wasn’t from Huntress. The Italian-American woman gasps and turns, looking up into the cold face of Wonder Woman. She barely has time to react before the Amazonian grabs her by the throat, hoisting her up over the boxes and slamming her into the concrete. She reaches behind the woman’s ear, taking the communicator from her and standing. Helena makes to sit up but Diana’s boot comes crashing down on her chest, keeping her on the ground while inflicting a massive level of pain.

She feels the weight upon her lungs and knows that she is going to die, already coughing up blood that sprays out over the woman’s boot and then dribbles down her chin. Diana ignores her death throes, and instead focuses on speaking to Bruce. The sounds of combat have died down, moving further east into the charred remains of downtown Gotham. “Hello Bruce” she says coldly, surrounded by her warriors. 

“Diana” he retorts coldly. “I will make you pay for this” he vows.

Diana just chuckles, drawing her sword from its scabbard at her waist and pointing it downwards at the prone woman, who still had enough life in her to glare hatefully at the former heroine. “You’d have to leave the safety of your little hideout to do that. Tell me, how did it feel to lose your home so quickly? Did you sob over Alfred’s dead body? Or did you let rage consume you?” she asks, a wicked smile coming to her lips. “It’s been so long since we’ve last spoken, and Arthur and I have a bet. I personally think you cried” she teases, drawing cruel laughter from the women around her.

Bruce remains silent, not saying a word, though she can hear his heavy breathing. She knows he’s listening. He always is. “I don’t know why you persist in fighting us Bruce” she begins, going off on the same tangent that she had done many times over. “We will be creating a new world order, if you like it or not. I offer you amnesty on one condition. You join our army. With your intellect and your drive we can finally take the war to Apokolips and put an end to that scourge once and for all” she says.

“You’ve killed so many…” Bruce begins, being cut off by a snarl from the woman. “No Bruce! You killed them. By sending them to their deaths. We are unstoppable and we will burn the Earth to have peace!” she warns.

“I’d rather die” he says resolutely.

Diana calms herself, smiling as she laughs. “You most surely will Bruce. In a way, I still admire you. Love you even. But I do have to ask, how many do you intend to bring down with you?” she asks. “If you were a true warrior, you would come out and face me on your own, yet you cower, sending others to do your dirty work. When will your crusaders tire of sacrificing themselves for your hubris? And what will happen then?”

She is greeted by more silence, though she welcomes the lack of interruption. It befitted a goddess to not be spoken to by mortals anyway. 

“I will tell you what will happen then” she sneers. “They’ll throw you out to me, like a sacrificial lamb. But it won’t save them. I am in Gotham Bruce. I will find you, if I have to tear every stone up I will find you I swear by Mother Gaia!” she shouts.

“Are you finished?” he asks, the rage building in his voice. “Yes, I am. Huntress isn’t though. She’s dying, on the brink of it. But she’s still drawing breath. Is there anything you want to say to a loyal soldier of yours before I send her down the River Styx?” she asks.

She doesn’t wait for a response and instead brings the communicator down to Huntress’ level, allowing her to speak and hear. “Bruce?” she asks with labored breaths, coughing up even more blood as Diana’s pressure increases on her chest. “Helena I’m…”

“Save it” she snaps. “I chose this Bruce. Just...tell Vic, and Maria that I love them so much” she says finally, having gotten the words out. “I will Helena. I promise” he says, the words crackling over the line. “Good” Helena says, nodding with a contented smile on her face. “One more thing” she says, the smile turning into a fierce smirk as she looks up at Diana. “When you finally defeat this cagna” she begins, “you tear out her goddamn heart and tell her to remember me as she dies” she finishes, dropping the communicator as she becomes to weak to hold even the small earpiece.    
  
She reaches up, wrapping a hand around the woman’s ankle and squeezing the boot. “Vai all’inferno” she says, her vision rapidly going dark as Diana brings her sword down, shoving the point into the woman’s throat and causing her eyes to shoot wide open as she gurgles out in pain.

“You had such spirit Huntress” Diana says, pulling the sword out and removing her foot, leaning down to wipe the blade on the woman’s cape, cleaning it before replacing it in its scabbard. “It’s a pity that you chose the wrong side” she says, standing up and moving away from the prone woman, whose lifeless eyes stare blankly up into the Gotham sky.

Diana steps over debris, appraising the situation as best as she could, a general taking stock of her victory. “Amphitrite” she calls out, a blonde Amazon rushing to her side and walking next to her. “Yes my goddess?” she asks, trying to keep up with the woman’s large strides. She stops, suddenly turning to survey the carnage that is now Gotham harbor. The wrecks of numerous small military craft litter the waters, the bodies of their sailors floating freely while Atlantean beasts gorge on the survivors, whose screams could still be heard.

She inhales deeply, taking in the scent of the battle. “Do you smell that?” she asks, turning towards the woman who nods. “Yes I can my queen” she admits. “It’s the smell of victory” she says, hoping that she’d answered correctly. “Wrong” Diana says, sighing in disappointment. “It’s the smell of war, which is much more intoxicating than that of victory” she admits, taking her helmet off and resting it in the crook of her arms.

“I understand Ares now” she says, looking off into the distance. “All those years I wasted in trying to convince him that war was not always the answer, or trying to prevent him from spreading it. I know how intoxicating it is now” she admits, taking the helmet that had once been the source of Ares’ powers and studying it in her hands. “I first put it on to save him” she admits, her mind going back over the years that had passed since then. “Ares had allied with Darkseid and was attempting to turn the Earth into one large battleground. I was naive, so I tried to stop him. I went too far though. Fear and love always make you weak, especially when joined together” she says, placing the helmet back on her head and feeling the power that flows into her from it.

Like a moth to a flame, the left over energy unleashed by combat flows into her, making her stronger with every slain foe. “I saw him” she says, her voice changed now that she wore the helmet. “Darkseid had him. Clutched in his hands as if he were holding a field mouse. Bruce..” she says, the name still being said with a quiet and aching affection. “He was going to kill him, like he had killed Superman. All I saw was the man I loved, ready to die”.

Amphitrite remains silent, knowing that it wasn’t a wise move to speak when the goddess was, so she simply bows her head in acknowledgement of the woman’s grief. “Ares mocked me so I took off his head and quickly donned his helmet. The power of a war between entire worlds flowed into me, and I knew that I was invincible” she says. “I attacked, thrusting my sword deep into Darkseid’s leg. For the first time in his life, he had cried out in pain. He was a god no longer” she says, the unmistakable pleasure on her face at reliving the memory, worrying the Amazons around her.

It falls away quickly, replaced by a neutral melancholy. “He didn’t understand” she says simply. “He didn’t understand what this power could do. All the good I could bring about with it. War could finally be just and right. Nobody understood. Not Bruce, not my mother and not the gods. They were weak and yearned for the ideals that the weak live on”.

“I have taught most of them the error of their ways” she says, reaching out and touching the woman’s shoulder. “The dead can not be weak any longer. Hippolyta lays, silent and unknown in the halls of Hades besides the gods who grew fat and lazy upon Olympus”.

She suddenly laughs, a harsh staccato that sends chills through the very souls of even the most hardened of her champions. “Now the world belongs to the strong. Arthur and I shall cleanse the world of all those that would dare oppose us and then, we shall take our struggle to other planets and universes, eternal war”

“I, Diana, goddess of war by right of conquest and Queen of the Amazons, promise that!” she shouts, drawing shouts and applause from the Amazons around her, who all thrust their spears into the air with the accompanying shout of “Awooo! Awoo!”

Diana smiles, relishing in the easy ways in which she could rouse her sisters to new heights of barbarism and combat. 

“Amphitrite, you shall go and meet with the Atlantean, General Vord I believe his name was. Thank him for the artillery support and compliment his gunners. They made slaughtering the remnants of this pathetic nation’s navy look easy, and it was quite an enjoyable show” she says. “Also, make him aware that we will be marching inland. Tell him that my orders to him are to guard the coast and prevent any other incursion. We Amazons could easily handle it but something tells me that it would soon be a bother to involve ourselves in the petty meanderings of the world’s navies” she says, watching as her lieutenant bows and clasps a closed fist to her breast plate.

“It will be done my goddess”

**_Last Hope Base, Somewhere Under Gotham City_ **

The rumble of artillery could be heard even this deep underground, and dust constantly feel down from the ceiling, covering the inhabitants of the base in a film of fine dust. It coated everything. People, weapons and even the small ramshackle buildings that had been erected by the civilians who fled into the safety of the underground.    
  
Above ground a war was being waged, a war that put all others to shame in its scope and scale. The remaining armed forces of the United States had been locked into an agonizing war of attrition with the Amazons and Atlanteans since the forces of Apokolips had retreated with their wounded god. Below ground though, the man who had quickly become the symbol of the free world was having doubts.

Bruce sat at the computer, his head in his hands as the constantly evolving situation above ebbs and flows, hundreds of deaths disguised as the erasure of a certain block on the map. Units destroyed, reformed, sent into battle to be smashed and reformed again. 

That was not his concern, however closely he watched the situation.

His concern was the special operations that he led, using whatever remaining metahumans there were to assist him in trying to stem the tide that had swept away the old world. Beside him was a sobbing Barbara Drake, who buried her head in her hands to try and contain it. He pulls himself out of that darkness, though he only does it for the wheelchair bound woman. “Barbara..” he says simply, standing and moving over towards the woman and putting his hand on her shoulder. He firmly expects to be rebuffed. To be blamed and hated for what had happened. 

He wouldn’t disagree if she did. 

  
Instead the woman wraps her arms around him and sobs into his chest. Bruce lowers himself even more until he is kneeling on the ground. “Wh...what am I going...to tell them?” she asks in between her outbursts, the tears rushing down her face with abandon. “I don’t know Barbara” he says, not knowing what to do at all. 

Barbara continues to sob, not able to collect herself as she lets out her rage and anger. “I want to kill her! I want to rip her fucking heart out!” she screeches at the screen, showing the dispositions of Amazonian forces. Bruce just holds her tighter, his hand rubbing her back. 

“First dad, then Dick and now...Tim” she sobs, all the pain of the past few years pouring out of her. Bruce finds himself beginning to cry, though he bites them back. “I know Barbara. I know” he says, letting her empty her sorrow to the best of his abilities. She calms, her convulsions stopping as she calms down. She pulls back, her face a mess of the remnants of hot tears.

“Bruce...I need to be alone for a little while” she says, and Bruce stands, not sure of what else to say. “I understand. Barbara...if there is anything I can do…” he trails off, knowing that there was precious little he could do to ever make any of this better. “I know Bruce,I know” she says, turning back to the computer screen and throwing herself into work, directing air traffic around the combat flights.

He slowly moves out of the communication room, closing the door behind him as he comes out into the service tunnel that connects it to the munitions factory. Every available spot of American land was now used to make war. He knew that it was the same elsewhere, other groups of Amazons ravaging Europe and Africa while the forces of Atlantis turned the coasts of Asia into a wall of flame. The last he’d heard about Japan was a report from Katana who was readying herself for a suicide charge against the Atlantean landing party. 

‘A samurai to the end’ he thinks, his mind going over the faces of the countless stream of friends he’d lost. ‘Darkseid, now Arthur and Diana’ he thinks, pausing to let a group of soldiers carrying a stretcher pass. The man was wounded, the entire right side of his face scorched by some sort of weapon. ‘Could be Greek fire or any one of the weapons that Arthur dredged up from the bottom of the sea’. 

The next group passing looks exhausted, but each stop to salute their nominal commanding officer. He salutes back, mostly to put them at ease through tradition than through the chain of command. “How is it out there?” he asks, knowing the answer already from the gaunt faces of the men. “Not great” the sergeant says, his m4 shouldered. “I figured”.

“We could use the Batman out there” he adds, the soldiers moving away before Bruce could respond. He was partly glad to not have to look them in the eyes. He could barely look himself in the eyes anymore.

‘Pull yourself together’ he says, feeling the onset of panic in his very soul. ‘Stay calm. Get to the munitions bay’ he thinks, needing to do a circuit of their home base. He moves along, attracting little attention in his combat boots and dirty army jacket. ‘They’re right’ he says, remembering the sergeant’s words. ‘They need Batman. Swallow your fear’ he thinks, feeling himself inching ever closer to the hole he had felt pulling him into it since the war had started two years ago.

The string of industrial lights pinned up against the wall flicker as a particularly large shell impacts above them, no doubt fired from the offshore artillery of the Atlanteans. Bruce recovers quickly and moves forward, happy to exit the constricting tunnel and be in the relatively open and busy space of the munitions factory.    
  
He’s even happy to hear that one familiar voice that grated on him more than anything else in the past.    
  
“Come on you lollygaggers, we ain’t got all day!” she shouts, standing on top of a crate and directing her platoon. “Gather up weapons and ammo alright? And make sure to save mama some pineapples. You know mama loves the pineapples!” she shouts with undisguised glee. 

Harley Quinn was the most unorthodox of combat commanders. Dressed in a pair of combat boots, revealing shorts and a tank top, all with her red and black motif topped off with a normal u.s army helmet, again sporting the red and black camoflauge, she stood out on the battlefield.    
  
It made it all the easier for her troops to rally to her when the need arose. Her troops were fanatically loyal to her, and she them. If you made it into the Crazies as they were called, you could count on never being left behind though you could also count on getting all of the suicide missions. She didn’t do it alone though. 

Her second in command and secretive lover was leaning against some of the crates, though he looked as he always did. Floyd Lawton, a.k.a Deadshot, waved to Bruce as he sees him, flicking a cigarette he was smoking onto the floor. 

“Jeez we’re on it LT” a younger soldier with two bandoliers of m60 ammo belts wrapped about his midsection. “But we’re pretty tired as it is. Can’t we take a break?”

“Awww are my little daisies tiredddd?” she teases, pouting her lips. “Getting your asses kicked by a bunch of girls?” she teases. “LT...you’re a girl…” another soldier says, loading a magazine into his rifle. “Wellll….that’s different!” she shouts. “I could kick your ass up and down this base sweetie but I wouldn’t because you’re all just soooo precious! Now get your asses in gear!” she shouts, causing the men to laugh and indeed step up their preparation a bit.

She stands before them, her hands on her hips before pulling out the riding crop she had on her back. She slaps it against her fist and walks back and forth across the crate. “Listen up maggots!” she shouts, Bruce joining Deadshot by the crate as they both watch what would undoubtedly be another ridiculous but also somehow inspiring speech unfold.

“I know” she concedes with a sigh. “You’re ugly dogfaces. It’s true. Got a face only a mother can love” she says with a teasing smile while the men jokingly frown and fake cry. “But luckily I’m here to lead my ducklings!” she shouts, drawing enthusiastic cheers that were not faked as they work on preparing their gear. “Now it’s true. We’ve been beaten at every turn. Pushed back, defeated, wrecked and wrecked again. But are we going to quit?” she shouts questioningly.

“Hell no!” they shout in response.

“Good, ‘cause I ain’t leading no quitters. What are we going to do?” she asks.

“Win”

“And if we lose?”

“We die laughing!” they shout, chuckling at their own inside joke. It was true. The Crazies were the USA’s crack troops on the front lines, and their officers were the only one’s they’d follow. ‘Probably why Waller gave them a pardon’ he thinks, having met with the president only a few days prior. Harley jumps off the crate and walks towards Deadshot, replacing the riding crop back into ruck. “Soooo...whatcha’ think?” she asks Deadshot, placing her hands on his side.

“Well...it wasn’t a Patton level speech but it’ll do” he says, his own hands going to her size. “Aww...flatterer. Hi Brucey Boy! How are ya?”

“Fine Lieutenant” he says, deciding to drop the bomb. “Tim Drake and Helena Bertenelli were killed at the docks”

The two former supervillains step away from each other, staring at the man who led this little army but seemed to do precious little actual fighting. “Shit. Tim…” Harley says, shaking her head and biting back the tears. “Is Barb...okay?” she asks, knowing that the Oracle wasn’t but having to ask anyway.

“She’s taking it as well as she can be expected to” Bruce says with a sigh. He saw each and every one of the woman’s tears in his mind and he knew he would never stop seeing them.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asks, hoping that Bruce would have an answer.

“Give her some time and ask her then” he says monotonously, the events of the day draining him more than anything had in a long time. He knew Barbara’s pain. He’d lost the woman he’d loved and their child. The difference was that Barbara had closure. There was a sense of finality to what had happened to Barbara. For him? There would never be peace until the war was over, and Diana and Arthur were defeated. 

“Okay” she says, her mood incredibly sapped as she wanted to rush right up to Barbara and make it all better. He knew that wouldn’t be the case, and in the end it probably never would be. Deadshot reaches out, his hand going to his woman’s shoulder as he brings her into his chest, kissing her forehead. “Hey, Lt. It will be alright” 

Harley calms down, able to school her face and emotions for the benefit of her soldiers. It was something that she needed to do to keep the unit together. Still, she was in a rage. He could see it in her eyes. He could see it in most everyone’s eyes. The rage. At everything they’d lost.

Theirs was an alliance of rage.

“When are you going to get back out there?” Deadshot asks suddenly, taking Bruce aback. “I…”

“And I don’t mean just as you” he clarifies, letting a confused Harley out of his arms. “I don’t mean strapping on a helmet and grabbing a rifle. I mean the suit. The cowl the brooding and intimidation” he says, advancing angrily on the former billionaire. “I…”

“Yeah, yeah yeah we’ve heard it before” Lawton says, grabbing the man’s shoulders and glaring at him. “How you are better off leading special missions, that you have certain expertise and all that other bullshit. Wanna know what the truth is?” he asks, allowing Bruce to shove him back violently.

“I just think you’re a fucking coward” he says, causing something to snap inside the former vigilante’s eyes. The punch comes quickly and violently, catching the other man on the chin and sending him sprawling back to crash into a few crates.

“HOW DARE YOU!” Bruce screams, jumping forward before Harley can interject and stop him. Bruce delivers another punch to the man’s face, receiving one in turn. “STOP IT! FUCKING ANIMALS!” Harley shouts, managing to throw Bruce back off of the now injured Lawton. Both are panting from their respective positions, both raring to go some more. “The enemy is out there! Alright?”

She slowly calms, looking at Bruce with sympathy in her eyes. “Bruce...Tim wouldn’t want this” she says simply, calming the man with those five words. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, moving up onto his feet. He walks over towards the prone man, offering him assistance in getting up. “Lawton…”

“Save it, save it” the man says, taking Bruce’s hand and getting up. “I was out of line. I’m sorry. It’s been….hard in the field recently” he says, admitting his fault. Still, Bruce couldn’t lie to himself.

‘He’s right’

“I know about what happened with your son Bruce. Hell the world knows. And Wonder Woman…”

“Stop” Bruce warns, not wanting another altercation. Lawton nods and holds his hands up, communicating his unwillingness to fight the man anymore. “We wouldn’t be where we today without you. We aren’t exactly winning, but we aren’t beaten yet” he says, coming as close to praise for the man as he ever would. The former merc turns to Harley who glares at him.

“I’m going to check up with Hawkings. Make sure the APCs are ready to go”.

“Uhhhmm” she says, grabbing the man by his shoulders and whispering to him. “You’re lucky you’re my guy Floyd. I’m still mad ‘atcha, you were out of line. Buttttt” she says, softening slightly. “I loves ya too. And you apologized and all. So we’re going to talk ‘bout this some more later alright?”

“Yes L.T.” he says, smiling slightly, nursing a rapidly blackening eye. “Good, now go check on our baby” she teases, gesturing for the man to leave and check on the armored vehicle that carried the crazies into battle.

He moves off, leaving Batman and Harley alone to speak. “Bruce...he does have a point” she says, watching the man look away, not wanting to face the issue anymore. “We needs ya. We need a symbol and supes? He’s gone. Wondy? Well I don’t need to explain that. Everyone else is out Brucey boy. Either dead or on their side. You’re all we have” she says, patting his back and moving away, wanting to give the man some space.

He fades away, standing their and being absorbed into the surrounding melee of the masses. Soldiers and nurses, civilians and other workers moved all about, like one angry ant colony. The anonymity is something he isn’t used to, but he doesn’t care either.

He didn’t want to be seen, not as Batman, nor Bruce Wayne. All he wanted to do was go back in time and die with his son.

**_Atlantis, Thousands of Miles Away_ **

“My Queen, it is time” comes the nervous whisper of one of her servants. Mera hears her instantly, and is up as quick as the words are spoken. She’d been waiting for hours, though she’d allowed Arthur Jr. to sleep, wanting this whole ordeal to pass without the little blonde boy waking up.

She was already dressed, not having expected anyone to check on her beyond peaking into the room anyway. Arthur wouldn’t have noticed either, most likely not even being in Atlantis. She nods smiling at the woman. “Thank you Nireva” she says, moving over to the crib and reaching in to take the young boy, safely bundled and softly snoring, and cradling him in her arms.    
  
She walks to the door, exiting her royal suite for what she hoped would be the last time. ‘Damn you to hell Arthur!’ she mentally shouts while schooling her face, wishing to remain calm before her last truly loyal subjects. Outside in the corridor there were numerous soldiers, all fully armed and ready to die for their queen. Each and every one had made a secretive oath, and were led by their commander, Colonel Grek. He was the only one of the officer corps of Atlantis willing to help. 

“Are we ready to go?” she asks the woman, her oldest and closest servant. ‘No...friend’ she corrects, smiling towards the nervous blonde. “Yes my queen but we must hurry. We believe that Orm may be onto us” she warns, causing a look of worry to pass across Mera’s face. 

“Don’t worry my Queen” a soldier says, stepping forward. “He will never be able to stop you. We will die before he gets within a foot of you”.

Mera smiles, placing her trust in these men and women to protect her, but most importantly her child. She leans down and runs her lips over the sleeping boy’s forehead, watching as he cutely wiggles before regaining his comfort. “Let’s hurry” she says, the soldiers nodding and forming a protective bracing about her as she moves towards the main atrium. 

There were very few people in the corridors, it being so late, but it was inevitable that they would meet some soldiers and servants. The soldiers are quickly dispatched and disarmed, questioned about their loyalty. When the answer given was “King Arthur of Atlantis” they were killed, usually with a knife to the throat. The servants were simply pushed away and shoved.

Mera hated the spilling of Atlantean blood, but she saw that there was no way around it. Selfishly she saw it as all worth it for her son. She would destroy Atlantis, brick by brick if it would ensure the safety of her baby boy. ‘It may very well come to that’ she thinks to herself, hopeful as they finally exit the royal hall and into the main open atrium. “My queen, we are ready to go” a soldier says, the large royal barge loaded and ready for her evacuation from Atlantis. “Thank you” she says, turning to watch as some of her personal guard embarks, the rest staying behind, looks of grim determination on their faces.

“I...thank you. All of you” she says, unable to keep the emotion from her voice. They salute, their pulse rifles loaded and ready. “FOR ATLANTIS!!” they shout in unison, sending a thrill of pride down Mera’s back. Nireva walks toward the woman, a smile on her face as she hugs the royal, not caring for protocol anymore. “Goodbye Queen Mera”.

“What?” Mera asks confusedly, appraising the woman. “You aren’t staying Neriva” she says, shocking the woman. “You are coming with me. I need you and my son needs you. Your duty is to him, the true king of Atlantis”.

Nireva is shocked, confusion on her face as this wasn’t the original plan. There had been no consideration for her by colonel Grek in the original plan. It was clear that Mera was changing that. “Well, go on” the redheaded woman teases her, and in another moment she is handed Arthur. “Please tuck him in. I need to speak to them for a moment” she says, kissing the little boy’s forehead once more. Now holding the baby, Nireva’s sense of purpose is instilled within her, and she moves towards the barge, willing to protect the child with her life.

She turns back towards the soldiers who all wait for her words with baited breath. These were the crack troops of the Malvina Division. The best of the best. And they had dedicated themselves to treason in the face of their despotice king. Their coup, which would ultimately fail, was the only thing that would cover their escape. 

Their lives for hers and her sons.

“No truer sons and daughters of Atlantis had ever existed” she says, her voice cracking. “I will remember each and every one of you, and I will tell my son about you as well” she says. “He will know of the heroes of Atlantis, and he will one day return to erect a statue dedicated to each and every one of you” she says, turning to her rear as the barge’s engines roar to life. “My queen...it’s time” a soldier says, offering her his arm to escort her to the barge. She nods, biting her lip and fighting a losing battle to contain her tears. 

She quickly walks up the gangplank of the barge, two sailors rolling it up and closing the door, giving her her last view of the soldiers who had saved her. “Are we ready?” one of the pilots calls back, to which he receives an affirmative reply from the rear. “Yes, the queen is aboard. Signal colonel Grek to begin his attack” the man says, smiling at the queen as he opens her berth for her, Nireva and Arthur already ensconced within. 

The other areas are occupied with soldiers, all of which were armed and ready for war. There was still only twenty of them however. Twenty against the countless hordes of Amazons and the entire might of the Atlantean army. ‘There is still the remnants of the Justice League and the United States’ she reminds herself, saving her mind from sinking into hopelessness. She wouldn’t allow it. Not when they were so close.

A series of explosions go off, rocking the city and sending the loyalist forces into disorder, though Mera didn’t know it at that moment. “We’re off. That’s our signal!” the pilot shouts, sending the barge upwards toward towards the surface which loomed high above them.

Mera is distracted from the coup by the sounds of her sons cries, the explosions having woken him up. She quickly takes him from Nireva, swaddling him close and beginning to sing an old Atlantean nursery rhyme. 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay sweetie. Hush little sweetie don’t say a word, mommy’s gonna buy you a sea urchin…”

**_Atlantean Throne Room_ **

“What is happening!” roars Orm, entering into the chamber, still dressed in his nightclothes. “A coup. Colonel Grek has taken over the armory and executed seven high ranking officers on our kings war council” a servant says, rushing beside the fuming man. “Has he now?” the man shouts, slapping the man across the face and sending him sprawling.

“I want a counterattack mounted...now!” he screams, utterly enraged by the turn of events. “It’s already being launched Prince Orm, however, we do not know where the Queen is” an officer says, walking passed the prone and injured servant. This draws Orm’s attention who fumes at the knowledge. “I knew it” he says, scanning the dome for any evidence of escape. He sees it instantly, and works out the woman’s plans. 

“That barge!” he shouts. “I want it shot down! The traitor is escaping with the king’s heir!” he says. “But if we shoot it down...the prince will die as well” the officer warns. Orm looks at him with undisguised hatred before a smile crosses his lips. “Very well. You shall explain to the king why his traitorous whore of a wife escaped with his son, who I may remind you can and has been able to rally Atlanteans to her cause, and tell him that you did nothing” Orm says, watching the man’s face pale. 

He instantly turns to an adjutant beside him, barking out orders. “You tell the defense ring to take that barge down! No survivors!” he shouts, knowing that Arthur had openly said if he lost his son he could always make another.

Of course, they all knew it would most likely be with the Amazonian goddess of war. 

‘And Atlantis, in like manner, sank into the depths’ the officer thinks, loathing even himself.

**_Atlantean Defense Turret Three_ **

“Yes! It will be down!” the woman says, turning towards her gunners who were already loading a shell into the massive pulse cannon. “Fire on the barge, don’t let it escape!” sergeant Atrika shouts, her men carrying out their orders despite their recalcitrance to do it. They were firing on their queen after all.

“Don’t even think about it” she hears, stopped from firing the shell as Lieutenant Hart presses his service pistol into her temple. “Betraying your king. Your city. Your people. I expected more of you Krolar” she sneers at her lover. “I expected more of you than to be willing to murder a child” he retorts coldly, watching as his men secure the other troops manning the gun. He looks over out of the glass to see a light flicker on and off in the other turrets, the signal that the others had been taken as well.

‘Good’ he thinks, watching as one cannon fires a shell directly at the dome, opening a large gap in the glass. The royal barge slips through, moving rapidly towards the surface until it disappears in the distance. Lieutenant Krolar smiles to himself, dropping the pistol to the floor. There was no need any longer. The soldiers who had participated in the operation were under no illusion that success was their ultimate objective. Too many were loyal to the king, too many willing to sacrifice Atlantean lives as long as the surface world burned.

Arika turns and picks up the pistol, gesturing for the other soldiers to do the same. She feels shame at Krolar’s eyes upon her, remembering the time before the war when they had been filled with laughter and love. His words also hung heavily in her mind. ‘Murder a child’ she thinks.

“Lieutenant Krolar, you are under arrest for treason against Atlantis and the King” she says, turning the man and pressing the pistol into his back.

“Treason to you, loyalty to me” he says with a confidence that takes the women back. She pushes her doubts down, not wanting to confront them at all at this point. She couldn’t and if she did she’d never be able to look herself in the mirror again.

**_Atlantean Throne Room_ **

“So Colonel Grek” Orm states, pacing in front of the man before him, the rest of the conspirators at the top assembled as well. The rank and file had already been executed, not being worthy of a trial. “Treason” he states simply, the brown haired Atlantean smiling. “I guess so” he says flippantly, Tula, his guard, kicking him in the back in a rage.

“Calm yourself Tula” Orm says, raising a lazy hand to dissuade her from further assaults on the prisoner. “Colonel Grek is allowed to defend himself under Atlantean law but I can assure you that when he is found guilty you were be allowed to kill him, right her, and at that moment” he teases.

Tula smiles wickedly, her mouth curving in glee at the proposition of delivering a violent death to the enemies of the king. She remains quiet, bowing and stepping back, allowing the colonel to recover. “You might as well just find us guilty Orm” the man laughs, spitting up some blood. “We already know how this is going to end and it would be better to not waste our time blathering about the reasons why. We already know”.

Orm seems a bit surprised and if he was honest let down. He wanted to have a bit of rhetorical sparring. He thought it would increase his standing with the galley of Atlanteans watching and the king if he did.    
  
It was shocking to see so many civilians there, dressed in nightclothes in many cases while watching the proceedings with rapt eyes. It was impossible to gauge what they thought, and undoubtedly many of them let their sympathies stay hidden. Atlantis was never an open and free city, but it had become even more restrictive under Orm’s steady hand. It wouldn’t have been different had Arthur been home either. No. Arthur was a changed man as well.

“So, you don’t deny the charges of treason?” he asks.

“Would it matter?” Grek asks, spitting on the man’s boot. “You already executed our men. We’re under no illusion about what’s waiting for us. Get it over with and know that one day we’ll be remembered as heroes” he says with a self assured confidence that slowly works its way amongst the rest of the bound conspirators. There is even a murmur in the crowd, something that was an ill omen.

“Long live Atlantis! Long live Queen Mera! Death to Arthur!” Lieutenant Krolar shouts, the others adding their own voice to the sentiment as they cheer on their leader. Orm just looks to Tula, giving the women the go ahead. With glee she summons up a water spout, bending it to her will. She forces it through the man’s eye sockets, retracting it to pull out the man’s face, killing him instantly. The guards set about the other conspirators, stabbing and slicing them multiple times as they fell, sending shocked screams through the crowd who hadn’t expected such a bloody and abrupt execution.

Orm is bored with it quickly and steps to the side, standing before the plate glass and surveying the city. Much damage had been done to their military infrastructure, most of the cannons being spiked. The barracks were a flaming wreck, and the bodies of dead soldiers from both sides were being picked up for burial or disposal based on if they were loyalists or rebels.

‘So much Atlantean blood spilled’ he thinks, not caring in and of itself for the fact of the carnage wrought on the city. The damage was superficial, and would be repaired within a week. However, the Queen and the prince had escaped. He frowns at this fact. The mixture of their flight with the evidence of dissidents within the city would hurt his half brother’s rule. In the past he would consider that a plus, but he now knew that his power was tied directly to his brother’s rule.

There was also the matter of him being unsure of how the blonde man would react to the loss of his “family”.

He scoffs at the notion, knowing that Arthur cared nothing for Mera. No. His eyes were on a woman whom he considered strong, who would protect Atlantis. He only cared for his namesake in the fact that he was the only heir he had at the moment, relations having soured between the two to such a point that sireing another was impossible.

No. Arthur’s position was tenuous, and as much as he wanted to let him drown, he couldn’t for he would be pulled down as well. No. 

The Ocean Master would not die.

**_The Royal Barge_ **

“My queen” Nireva asks, interrupting the woman as she was feeding Arthur. “Yes Nireva?”

“Where are we going?” she asks, trying to maintain their separation of classes but unable to fully suppress her curiosity. She just hoped that the woman wouldn’t be angered. To the contrary, Mera seems happy for the distraction, and she flashes a gentle smile at the woman, cradling the little boy in the crook of her arm.

“We’re going to Gotham” she says, shocking the woman. “But...my queen...that’s a warzone. The frontlines! The Amazons…”

“I am tired of hearing of the Amazons” the woman says firmly though calmly. She looks back toward Neriva. “I am not afraid of her Neriva. I am cautious of her, but I don’t fear her” she states, an air of finality about her. “The only man who can help us is there” she admits further, turning the former servant into a confidant. “Ohh?”

“Yes. Superman is dead. The Lantern was defeated. Shazam is missing and the Flash is a broken man” she says, rattling off what she knew about her former friends. “Many of the others joined Diana, if you can believe that” the redheaded woman fumes. “Her own furies to rival Darkseid. She corrupts everyone she touches” she says. Neriva averts her eyes and lets it dawn on her who they were looking for. She didn’t know much about the Justice League, or her queen and former king’s tenure within it.

But she did know of the heroes of the surface world, and one always stuck out to the people of Atlantis. They feared Superman and Wonder Woman, their power and interests being formerly against the people of Atlantis. 

No.    
  
They were long gone anyway. 

The Batman was the only one left, and everyone knew it. “My Queen, are you sure?” she asks once more, drawing a look from the woman who nods. “Yes. As sure as that as anything else. He is the only one who will stand against them to the very end. He’s the only one who truly understands what is at stake”.

“He was also deeply injured by everything he lost” Neriva supplies, glancing at baby Arthur. Mera smiles sadly and nods. “I know, and that’s why he has to understand that I can’t loose my son” she says, the plea going directly from her voice to whoever was listening to the prayers of mortals.

Neriva says no more and simply nods, reaching out to run her fingers through the little boy’s hair. 

**_Last Hope Base, Personal Quarters of Bruce Wayne_ **

The whiskey glass was half full, though it hadn’t been his first glass. The bottle was half empty at this point. He didn’t care. He wouldn’t be needed for a while, so he took the opportunity to drink. He was seated in his chair, sprawled over it more so than anything else. 

“Here’s to you Tim...Helena….Dick...Alfred…” he begins, rattling off the names of those he had lost. He stops, his whole body shaking with the angry tears that begin to run from his eyelids. “To...Tommy” he says, saying his son’s name for the first time in a very long while. He drops the glass, letting its contents spill out over the wooden floor, placing his head in his hands and resting on the table. 

A knock on the door pulls him out of his stupor, but only slightly. He takes a photo out of his pocket, looking deeply at it. He was smiling, something he never did truthfully anymore, and in his lap was his little boy. Dark black hair and blue eyes, the spitting image of him at that age. The difference was how happy he was. There was no darkness in those eyes, no deep sadness. He was innocent, and the world was still bright to him.

‘Goddamn you for bringing him into this world’ he thinks, feeling himself to be the only one responsible for the boy’s death. The knock comes again, and he absentmindedly begins to brush his thumb over the picture, first his son and then the woman beside them. She was smiling wide, ecstatically even. She looked so happy. They all were. Even Alfred who had taken the picture. 

“Diana” he says, remembering how she had taken to motherhood. Like a duck to water. Thomas Wayne was her entire world. A world Darkseid took from them. “I am so sorry” he says, desperately wanting to have been strong enough to protect their son from the world. 

“Darkseid” he fumes, his mind knowing that the warlord was on his home planet, licking his wounds. He didn’t know why he was fighting. He wanted Darkseid dead as well. To thrust a batarang though his eyes and make him feel pain. To rip his heart out and let his last sight be his face. But Diana had been corrupted by the helmet of Ares, and in the end, he’d lost the woman he’d loved as well. 

His wife. His son. His father. One foul sweep.

The knock comes again, even more insistent this time. “WHAT?!” he shouts, roaring drunkenly. 

Vic Sage, the Question opens the door, having abandoned his mask and donned military gear. Bruce calms instantly at seeing the man’s haggard expression. “Vic” he says, trying to stand up but falling back into the chair. Vic says nothing and raises his hand instead, wanting to prevent anymore apologies or comforting words. The redheaded man moves over to the table and takes the opposite chair. “Just wanted to know if you had more of this to share” he says, pointing towards the whiskey. 

“What about Maria?” Bruce asks.

“She’s been crying all day. She finally fell asleep. Dinah is watching her for me. Just for a little while” he explains, causing Bruce to nod and gesturing for him to take some of the whiskey. He quickly fetches another glass and hands it over to the man. “Of course Vic” he says, knowing that in the end, the man needed someone who could commiserate with over the loss of his wife.

Bruce was an expert at losing people.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Last Hope Communications Room_ **

“This is Oracle” Barbara says harshly into the microphone. “We won’t be speaking to you until we know who the hell you are” she says. The radio crackles back to life, the signal being weak but still close enough to be picked up. “I told you” the man on the other end of the line begins. “I am Captain Drost of the Atlantean Royal Guard. That is all I can say without endangering the lives of two very important people aboard” he says.

Barbara fumes and slams her fist down on the table. “We know where you are. We have a fix on you. You have five seconds to tell me who the “very important” people on board your little sub are or you won’t be worth the paste they leave on the ocean floor”.

“We let you know where we are as an act of good faith” the man says, losing his own temper. “We’ve seen Atlantean good faith you piece of shit” she says, readying herself to make the call for missile to be launched at the sub. “Captain, stand down” a voice says gently from the other end of the line, and a feminine tone breaks through the speakers. “Barbara? Is that you?” it asks, sending the former Batgirl for a loop.

“Who...who is this? And how do you know my name?” she asks suspiciously. “It’s me. Queen Mera” she says. “It has been a very long time” the woman teases, trying to use familiarity to get into the woman’s good graces. “How are the kids? They have to be what...three and five?” she asks. “They’re...fine Mera” Barbara says, at a loss for words as one of her old colleagues speaks to her. “How’s Tim? Is he still wearing that ridiculous outfit?” Mera asks, chuckling good naturedly. The mention of her dead husband puts Barbara right back on the defensive and she grips the microphone harshly. 

Her hands were practically shaking.

“Barbara?” Mera asks, unsure if she’d been heard. 

“He’s dead” Oracle says simply. “Ohh no…” Mera responds, her shock and sadness unmistakeable. “He’s dead because one of your soldiers, or one of Diana’s though it doesn’t fucking matter at this point, decided to make me a widow and my children fatherless”.

“Barbara I am so sorry, but I had nothing to do with Arthur’s…”

“You had nothing to do with your husbands war huh!? Just an innocent bystander?! Why didn’t you stand up to him you bitch?! Why di…”

“Barbara, that’s enough” comes a voice from behind her, a hand going to her shoulder as Bruce sits down besides her and takes the microphone. “Mera, this is Bruce. What do you want?” he asks gruffly, though also tiredly. 

“I...Bruce, it’s good to hear…”

“Save it and answer my question” he says, not wanting to exchange pleasantries with anyone, let alone the wife of the man who’d taken so many lives. “I need a place where I can be safe” she says evasively. “Bruce...I have a son. Please, just take him if you can. Keep him away from Arthur” she says, laying all her cards on the table in a quick change of heart. 

“A son” Bruce says to himself, hearing the woman’s plea once more. “Please Bruce. Kill me if you have to but just...just protect my baby boy” she asks, tears staining her voice as she continues to plead. “We have nowhere else to go Bruce. You are his last hope” she says finally.

Barbara looks up at the man whose eyes are closed in quiet contemplation. He opens them and looks down at her, and she could already see his answer in his eyes. “Where are you located?” he asks, already knowing the answer as the blip was visible on the radar screen. “Gotham harbor. We need to be quick” she says, fear in her voice.

“We do things the way we tell you you will…”

“Bruce, we don’t have time!” Mera shouts. “If we stay out here any longer the Atlanteans will see us and that’ll be the end of it” she pleads. “The key to ending the war is on board with me Bruce. My son” she says.

“Is just a baby…” Oracle interjects. “He is still the key! Atlanteans will rally to him. I know it” Mera says. “Please Bruce…”

“Can you see the ruined lighthouse?” Bruce asks in a neutral tone, causing shuffling from the other end of the line. “Yes. My troops have a view of it”.

“How many men do you have?” he asks, zeroing in on the radar screen, leaning over Barbara’s shoulder. “Twenty Bruce. Hardly enough to mount a campaign” she laughs, hoping to lighten the mood even more. “We’re sending a unit to fetch you” he says. “There is an old sewer pipe with a secret entrance to our location” he says, drawing Barbara’s shock. 

“You and your men will be blindfolded and your arms confiscated. You will scuttle your ship as well. Do you understand?” he asks, a moment of silence passing once more. It was undoubtedly hard for the women to acquiesce to such demands, but in the end she knew she had no choice,

“Do you understand?” Bruce asks, this time much more harshly.

“Yes. We understand” comes the response from Mera

“Good” Bruce says, sending out a message over the computer. “We’re sending Lieutenant Quinn to come and get you and your men. You can expect them in half an hour. Mera..” he says, drawing a questioning tone from the woman. “Yes Bruce?” she asks.

“This better not be a trick. Wayne out” he says, severing the connection before reaching for the megaphone that ran the base.

“Lieutenant Quinn, Lawton, report with your platoon to bay number three. I repeat, report with your platoon to bay number three” he calls out, Barbara sitting sullenly beside him. “What the hell are you thinking Bruce?” she hisses out angrily.

He doesn’t put his thoughts to words immediately, wanting to think of the right thing to say the still emotionally hurting woman. “I’m making a decision that might help us win this war” he says simply. “No, you’re still thinking that people can be redeemed” she fumes. “You’re still trying to stick to your moral code and you’re trying to win the war. Having your cake and eating it too Bruce!” she says, gesturing to the screen where the radar blip still showed prominently. “Right now we still have a chance to get even with that fucking bastard” she says, referencing Aquaman. “We can kill his wife and kid, just like he killed my husband and countless others!” she shouts. Bruce makes to disagree but Barbara cuts him off. “What about Vic? Maria? Hmm? They lost Helena. My babies don’t have a father and that is just TWO deaths Bruce. Let’s not even think about the literal millions that they’ve killed and for what? Power? Fuck them. Let me call in the missle strike” she pleads.

“Barbara…”

“We can kill them all!” she shouts. “Imagine how this would get to Aquaman. To know that feeling of powerlessness. To know that he can’t protect his wife or his own child!”

“I don’t need to imagine Barbara” he shouts right on back, grabbing the arms of the woman’s wheelchair and keeping her in place. She’s shocked by the anger in his voice, but ashamed of the sadness she’s caused in it. Bruce opens his mouth before closing it and looking down, the rage draining away instantly. 

“I already know what that feels like, and the last thing I would ever do is kill a child to inflict that pain on someone else. Not even on Aquaman” he explains. “Bruce I’m…”

“It’s okay” he says, hugging the woman with one arm before standing up. “I know how you feel, but in the end we can’t sink down to that level Barbara. We won’t win if we become them. We need to be better, to show the world a better way” he says, his eyes turning back to the screen. Barbara just sighs and nods, agreeing with him as she writes up the mission report for Harley. “You sound like him” she teases, a light smirk teasing at the corner of her mouth.

“Who?” Bruce asks curiously.

“Clark”

Something about that comforted the man deeply.

**_Atlantean Royal Guard Landing Party, Gotham City_ **

She looks out towards the ship, counting down the seconds until the charge would go off and incinerate the lump sum evidence that they were even there. When it does go off the flames rocket into the air, lighting up the night sky.

“Well, at least it blends in” she says to a nearby Nierva who was still holding a sleeping Arthur. It was true. So many ships lay either burning or simply as blasted hulks in the harbor that nobody would even notice, at least for a while. “The demolition crew will be returning soon my queen” Captain Drost says, coming up behind the woman quietly. She is almost startled, but calms as soon as she sees the face of the young man. ‘So young. Much too young to be commanding this unit’ she thinks, still placing trust in the man despite the fact. “Very good captain” she says, watching as three dark shadows emerge from the surf. “There they are now” she points out, drawing the captains approval. “We’ve abandoned our armor but we still have our rifles...until the capturing unit comes and takes them” the captain says, apparently angry about being relieved of his fighting capabilities.

Mera instantly comforts the man, putting her hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay Captain” she says. “Undoubtedly we will have to earn their trust but as soon as we do, I’m sure that you won’t be lacking in weapons” she teases. “In fact, I’d say that the surface dwellers weapons might even be more destructive than our pulse rifles”.

“Pffft..better than our rifles? With all due respect I doubt that my queen” the man says with a chuckle, trying to make conversation as the group waits behind the shattered remnants of a sail boat. Without prompting Mera reaches toward Neriva, wanting to hold her still sleeping child. The woman acquiesces, though it is clear from her expression that she doesn’t want to release the child, even to his own mother. Mera smiles at her, knowing that the blonde thought of Arthur jr. as her own.

“Well Captain, to be totally honest, there is a reason my ‘Husband” she says, spitting the word with obvious disdain, “limits his operations to the sea and the coast while letting the Amazonian whores ravage the land” she says, bouncing the slowly waking boy in her arms. “We haven’t fought a war in a very long time while the surface dwellers don’t go five minutes without killing each other” she says. “Even the Amazons, women who train all day and all night and are magically gifted by their goddess have a hard time against them” she explains, looking out over the distance as an aircraft runs a sortie, releasing a bomb load across the bow of an Atlantean mounted cannon. It explodes in a bright orb of flame that expands and expands, taking the crew with it. 

There was once upon a time she would rush in and assist the wounded, hoping to save them and return them to the war. Now? She would do everything in her power to make sure Atlantis lost. To save it, it must first be destroyed. ‘Will you kill for it? Your own people?’ she asks herself, looking down at Arthur’s deep blue eyes which latched onto her own with a complete and utter trust. 

‘Yes’ she answers her question, knowing she would spill Atlantean blood when it came time.

“Don’t underestimate them” she continues on, returning to the conversation with the captain. “I’ll wait to make judgement on their fighting capabilities when I see them..” he begins before going silent, his face losing color even in the night. “Captain? What’s wrong?” Mera asks.

“Ahh nothin’. He just has something hard pressed into his lower back” comes a teasing voice from behind the captain, and a head peaks around to smile at the Queen. She isn’t able to immediately place it, but the voice and face were familiar to her, even if they were covered in feature disguising soot. “And before a pun is made, yeah it’s a gun. I certainly ain’t happy to see you” the former Joker mole says with a glare. “Heya Queenie. Don’t know if I have to tell you idiots, but don’t make any sudden moves” she says, watching as her men appear from seemingly out of nowhere, each taking control of an Atlantean soldier. Deadshot comes up besides Harley, his rifle in his hands as he scans up and down the mostly deserted beach.

“Harley Quinn?” Mera asks questioning, shocked by the turn of events that led to Harley Quinn being a soldier, and apparently an officer no less. “You know any other babe who looks good in red and black?” the former psychiatrist teases before turning serious once again. “Alright, so here’s the scoop. Batsy sent us to come get you, so here we are. We got you. And you’re coming with us quick” she explains, watching as her troops gather. “This whole area is going to be a hotzone very soon, mostly to cover your asses” she hisses. 

Mera begins to speak, being hushed by the woman with one finger on her lips.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up” Harley says, shaking her head. “If it were up to me, we’d just leave you out here to dry, buuuut...you got a cutie with you” she teases, looking down at the bundle which eyes her with undisguised glee. Arthur reaches out his hands, opening and closing them as he looks at the woman. “Awww sweetie. I can already tell, you’re going to be a real killer with the ladies” she says, reaching forward to rub the little boy’s cheek. Mera steps back defensively, not wanting the former henchwoman to touch her baby at all.

Harley glares at her before shrugging. “Eh, I get it. I do. Lucky for you you’re able to hold your little boy close eh? Lots of mommies and daddies can’t do that nowadays and it’s all your husband’s fault. Ohh, and Wonder Bitch but I tend to keep that down due to the whole Bats thing” she says, once more sending shivers of guilt up and down the woman’s spine.

‘Great, Harley Quinn now has the right to lecture you’ she thinks, knowing that initially she should’ve done more to prevent the outbreak of hostilities. To stop the Atlantis and Amazon treaty. At the time she thought cooler heads would prevail, that nobody would want to keep fighting after Darkseid’s invasion.

She was wrong.

“Anywho, we better get going. So follow me Queenie. Ohh Floyd, darling, my love, my cutie, my…”

“Yeah?” he asks, cutting the woman off. “Ohh yeah, sorry. Got caught up in daydreaming” she teases. “Be a dear and keep an eye on them from behind, but don’t look at her butt!” she warns. “I’ll know if you look at her butt” she says. Deadshot lets out a long suffering sigh before turning to the woman and nodding. “Mera. Long time no see” he says drawing a glare from the woman. “Lawton. The last time you tried to kill me at Starr labs” she accuses.

“Yeah...sorry about that. Hopefully we’re on the same team now” he says, moving behind her, Nierva and the baby, his rifle shouldered in a sign of trust. ‘So far, Deadshot is the only one who hasn’t given us grief’ she thinks, watching as her last remaining loyal subjects are led off by the soldiers. ‘Maybe that’s because he knows about redemption’ her mind whispers, making the decision of whether to trust the man or not all the easier. 

“We are” she says, believing the words herself. She could sense that the soldiers under her command were against being disarmed, especially by surface dwellers but they go along with it, Mera having communicated to them the severity of the situation they found themselves in while on the barge. 

As the ad hoc group heads into the drain pipe she can only hope that their future was brighter than interrogation and imprisonment. She’d already ordered them to give up their weapons and explained why they needed to do so while on the barge, though she knew they didn’t like it. Then again, soldiers would never like being disarmed.

The sound of gunfire erupts from the east of them, and Mera looks over to see that the sky is lit up by tracers and explosions. “Eh, looks like Johansen and his boys are fucking up the Amazons’ dinner” Harley says with a teasing smile, undisguised glee on her face at the thought of the death being inflicted on the female warriors.

“Hope they choke on whatever is left” Lawton supplies, helping Mera up into the drain pipe by offering her a hand. She takes it and smiles at the man, though it was more to extract a level of revenge on the woman for her treatment of her. She knew they held all the cards, but she was still a queen.

“Thank you Lawton” she teases, holding the baby close to her while taking the man’s hand. “Well, at least you have manners” she smiles at him, casting a glance towards the fuming Harley who regards them out of the corner of her eye. 

“Uhh well, you’re welcome” he says in nervous response, his mind also fixed on how Harley would respond to the woman’s actions and trying to be mindful of it. The last thing he wanted right now was to be fearful of waking up to a grenade beneath his pillow from his insanely jealous girlfriend. 

Mera says nothing else, but walks into the pipe further, following the group of soldiers and their prisoners while Deadshot assists Neriva, who was much less thankful to the former assassin turned soldier. She ignores him and instantly moves to rejoin her queen. The remaining members of their platoon continue to pass him, giving teasing smirks as Harley remains behind, her arms under folded under her chest as she looks at the man. 

“Uhh, well...I didn’t look at her butt” he exclaims in self defense, which doesn’t go over well with the pale skinned woman. “Pfft, just making goo goo eyes at her instead” she shouts, throwing her arms up and walking away, leaving Floyd to close the hatch and hide their secret tunnel once more.

“Harley!” he shouts in exasperation before giving up and sighing to himself, casting one last look at the raging battle the east and closing the hatch.

‘Hope they do kick their asses though’ he thinks. ‘It’ll make being in the doghouse a little easier at least’

**_Last Hope, Interrogation Room_ **

“You’re telling me that a coup was launched for the sole purpose of getting you and your son out of Atlantis?” Bruce asks the seated redhead, who was in a state of agitation at being separated from her son. “Yes” she says, a little miffed at having to answer the question a third time.

“We’re going to need to know who led it, how many were involved and how many can be counted o…”

“They’re all dead” Mera says, cutting the man off before he can ask for further help. “Orm is in control of Atlantis” she says, as if that explained everything. In a way it did and Bruce nods, sliding a folder across the table to the woman. “We figured that out months ago” he says, letting the woman open the folder and look at the pictures the man had assembled of Arthur. 

“Here he is in London” he points out, showcasing a specific image wherein the blonde man was using his trident to skewer John Constantine. “Ohhh” she says sadly, looking on the photographic evidence of the snarky exorcist’s death. “He died quickly” Bruce supplies. “We all had a love/hate relationship with that man” she says, a sad smile on her face. “He died bravely, but in the end he couldn’t beat them”.

“Who?”

“The furies” he says, opening another folder and showcasing the contents by letting them spill out. Photographs of Zatanna, Hawkgirl, Supergirl and Vixen fall out, all looking much different than they had before. All of the pictures had been taken during combat, and showcased the women killing soldiers in one vicious manner or another. “Ohh no…” she whispers to herself, her fingers tracing over the pictures as she takes them and their significance in.

She looks back up at Bruce, the shock registering clearly on her face. “They all joined her” he says in affirmation of the unspoken question on her lips. 

“Why?”

“The same reason she became who she did” he says with an air of finality, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers through one another. “Loss”.

Mera is silent, her thoughts moving onto the fact that she was very lucky. ‘Diana lost her baby’ she reminds herself, allowing pity for the woman who had taken so much from the world and herself personally filter into her heart. ‘What would you have done?’

“Bruce...I...I never did get to say it, everything happened so quickly” she begins cautiously. “But, I’m sorry for your loss”. He doesn’t move but he closes his eyes and nods, having heard it before. “Thank you”

“What happened Bruce?” she asks, though her question was clearly about the world at large and not the man’s own loss. He opens his eyes and looks at her deeply, not really sure if he could trust her. “So you really don’t know anything about what happened since D-day?” he asks, using the term that they’d come to apply to the war between Darkseid and planet Earth.

“No” Mera says, the inflection in her voice convincing him that she was telling the truth. “After what happened with Clark...and then Diana...Arthur kept me under guard. He wanted to protect me I guess. Like a porcelain doll” she says resentfully, causing Bruce to smile for the first time since seeing her again. “The Mera I remember would never have allowed that” he says. 

She smiles right back at him, happy for some reminder of the old world, even if that reminder was a changed Batman. “The Mera you remember didn’t have a baby boy to worry about” she chides. “When did that happen?”

“Right after Darkseid left” she explains. “Arthur...well, we were different then. I guess he still loved me” she says with a dark little chuckle before continuing on. “Arthur jr. came along after that, but by that time...he’d changed” she said.

“Arthur had come to an agreement with Diana” she spits, closing her eyes and quietly fuming at the embarrassment that had been dealt out to her. “They’d agreed to split the world into spheres of influence apparently, and soon enough their agreement was…..more”. She says it quietly and with pause, knowing that she was treading on stormy waters, and she had a fear of upsetting the man who had been the woman’s husband.

If Bruce was affected by her talking about her husband’s affair with his wife, he didn’t show it, so she continued on. “It took a long time to dawn on me” she admits. “I was stuck in my own world and maybe, after everything that had happened...I just wanted to pretend that everything was okay” she says. 

It’s a sentiment that Bruce understood. After all, so many put their heads in the sand, trying to block out the fact that the world was falling apart around them. By the time they looked up, it was already too late.

“I had always thought that some sort of agreement had been made” he says quietly, turning back to her previous statement. She nods, remembering the day she’d found out that there was more. “She came to Atlantis on a diplomatic mission” she says. “She was changed even then, and didn’t look at me with anything more than a passing glance” she explains. “This was right after the official alliance I would guess, but I couldn’t tell you for certain. I was frozen out of the state” she says with a chuckle. “At the time Arthur told me that it was for my own peace of mind, but eventually I realized that it was because of the secretive parts of the treaty”.

“Which were?” Bruce asks, leaning in.

“Well not so secretive now” she admits sheepishly. “I’m sorry. It’s easy to forget that there is a lot more to all of this than palace machinations. But basically they’d carved the world up into spheres of influence. Diana would control the surface, and Arthur, naturally the sea. But the other part of it was that in order to keep the peace, he and Diana would eventually marry” she says, remembering the stinging pain she experienced when she’d first heard of that.

“This was basically because of how Arthur had fought with Orm over the throne. Even if he’d come to an agreement with Orm, he didn’t want to repeat that power struggle, and especially not between him and Diana”.

She looks down at the table, dust from the ceiling falling down as a rocket salvo lands above them, shattering the ground and shaking the Earth. “So, they agreed that only their child could inherit both kingdoms” she says with a scornful laugh. “He even managed to secure the backing of the Atlantean nobles by reinstating most of their privileges. Arthur the reformer was dead and the average Atlantean was back to being a serf”.

“He even topped it all off by declaring Orm to be regent while he was gone away on campaign. It all fell into place so easily for him. Almost as if that stars had lined up to accomplish it. There was only one problem now” she says darkly.

“Your son” Bruce inserts, already surmising such an outcome.

She closes her eyes and nods, trying to hold back the tears and failing as they seep out of her eyelids. Bruce reacts quickly, handing over a tissue to the woman and turning away to allow her to wipe her eyes.

She thanks him and blows her nose after she wiped her eyes, searching the room for a waste basket. She finds it and with a flourishing smile manages to land the balled up piece of paper in the bin. It lands on the rim before falling in, causing the redheaded woman to smile and Bruce to look at her inquisitively. “What? When I came to the surface world, I started to really like basketball” she says. Bruce just shrugs and says “we have a basketball court here” while he looks at her, urging her to continue with her story.

“I’ll have to look at that” she teases before turning solemn again. “Arthur Jr. became a lightning rod instantly for the disaffected in the Atlantean military once they became aware of these secret provisions” she says. “Colonel Grek, the leader of the coup, made me aware of these facts and I instantly confronted Arthur about it but he waved me off, telling me that it was only in the event of if Arthur Jr. and I were to die”. She stops, trying to collect herself for a moment in order to continue on. 

“He became cold, even towards the baby. We didn’t even recognize him anymore Bruce. Do you know…” she starts to ask before stopping herself. “I do know what that feels like” Bruce says, wanting to squash the issue. “So, he was planning on murdering his own child” he says, shocking Mera that he already knew but she quickly comes around to the fact. He was still the Batman, with or without the cowl. “When did you find out?”

“I didn’t, but you just confirmed my suspicions” he says with a wry smile that comforts Mera for some reason. ‘At least some things stay the same’ she thinks before the rage fills her. “I found the plans, one of the soldiers ordered to carry it out” she says. “He got drunk on ale and came to me, sobbing about treachery. Colonel Grek was able to act more openly then, and the next day we were attacked by Atlantean loyalists. We were prepared, and Arthur Jr. wasn’t with us”.

“I’ll never forget his face when he came to the scene of the attack Bruce” she snarls. “He looked disappointed and barely even looked at me. He just demanded a report from one of the soldiers before half heartedly congratulating him on a good job before he swam away, leaving Colonel Grek to escort me back. After that, I knew I couldn’t ever trust Arthur and that soon we would both be dead to clear the way for his new marriage and dynasty”.

“I...I never thought he’d be capable of something like that” she says. Bruce reaches across the table and takes her hand, providing a level of comfort that she wouldn’t have thought that it was possible to have come from the Batman. “Power and the lust for power….they do things to people” he says, letting the sentence trail off before he looks deeply at the woman.

“Alright, you can stay with us. We’ll provision as best we can for your men. As we speak the water reservoir we have is being cordoned off to provide a living space for them and you” he says. “Thank you Bruce! Thank you” she says, grasping his hand tightly before he gently extricates it from her grasp. “But, if it is alright, Arthur Jr and I, being highborn Atlanteans, we can live on land as well” she explains, her eyes turning fierce. “I want to help win this war Bruce” she says, the resolve sharpening her voice into steel. 

“Do you really think that the Atlanteans will rally behind your son?” he asks.

“Of course they will. Especially since I took this” she says, reaching into her suit and unstitching a secretive pocket. She retracts the parcel of papers and pushes it over to the man who opens the parcel and reads over the words on the paper with ever increasing interest.

“This is the treaty outlining the Atlantean/Amazon alliance” he says, drawing a nod from the woman who gestures towards the next piece of paper. “Go on and read the next one” she says, which looked much more simple than the previous paper. Bruce reads it and begins to shake, his hands gripping the paper and crumpling it as the reality of how much his former Justice League ally had changed.

“Orders” she says. “From the king to one of his loyalists, Captain Kufa” 

“Dispose of the queen and the child. Both are to be executed and their bodies dressed to give the appearance of an accident. I will send my personal physician and my brother to assist in this momentous task” she says, having read the letter over a hundred times by this point.

Bruce swallows harshly, unable to fathom the cool detachment that would allow a man to sentence his own son to death. Instantly images of Thomas filter through his mind and his laughter fills his ears. The room begins to spin for the man and he leans on his hand.

“Bruce are you alright?” Mera asks with concern, reaching forward to help steady the man. “I’m fine” he says, standing up quickly, shaking off the thoughts as if they were fleas. “Welcome to the army then Queen Mera. Let’s go see your son” he says, opening the door of the interrogation room and gesturing for her to exit. At the mention of her son Mera beams and practically rushes from the chair, hugging the man tightly.

It all poured out, her fears and trepidations over their escape and the sinking thought that only death awaited her and her son, it manifested in open tears that trail down her cheeks. She hugs Bruce, ecstatic at the ability to feel that they were safe, if only for the moment. “Thank you Bruce, thank you so much” she says.

Bruce is taken aback but eventually he nods and pats the woman’s back. Her much smaller frame was melded into his front, and her arms clung about him, desperate for some form of contact that wasn’t sterile and cloaked in royal protocol. For his part, Bruce found that he missed it as well. Soon he hugs her back once more before pushing her off of him by the shoulders. His hands stay there before he nods and gestures with his chin to the right. 

“They’re being held in the main atrium. We’ll arm and outfit your men while also getting started on requisitioning quarters for you and your son”.

She smiles but says no more, wanting to get to Arthur and hug him too. Bruce walks out behind her, closing the door as well.

He knew that the chances of little Arthur playing a huge part in this war were slim, but what was the purpose of winning a war if you didn’t do the right thing while doing it?

A little boy was in the balance, and in the end Bruce would go out a limb to save a little boy.

**_Amazon Forward Outpost, Gotham City_ **

“I can’t find them Diana” Zatanna Zatara says, her top hat clenched before her in her fingers as she looks on the goddess of war. Diana sighs and exhales through her nose, reaching forward to run her fingers over her helmet. “Why?” she asks gruffly, the two other Amazons besides the sorceress wincing at the anger that seemed to be overcoming the woman.

“We...we...I...I’m not sure” Zatanna finally says, wearing the armor that signified not only her status as one of Diana’s crack furies but also allowed her to rely on her magic. Diana stands up and moves about the table, walking with one hand on the pommel of her sheathed sword. Her boots echo heavily on the wooden floor as she moves closer to the other woman. Zee doesn’t move, and even her breath has become slow and methodical, as if she was trying to hide from the woman.    
  
Diana stops and stands still, looking up towards the heavens and nodding. “You told me you would be able to find them” she warns, remembering how she had agreed to spare the woman’s life in return for her services.

“I know my goddess, but Dr. Fate and others are there with him” she says, suppressing the inner turmoil that erupts within her at how easily she had betrayed Bruce. ‘I’m sorry Bruce’ she thinks, wishing she could speak to the man and hopefully get him to understand. ‘But you don’t know what she’s threatened me with’.

“One washed up and injured old man shouldn’t be enough to stop you” Diana says, knocking out Zee’s one last defense. “I know, I know my Queen. I’m sorry. I shall redouble my efforts and we will emerge…”

Diana holds up her hand, stopping the woman from speaking any further. “Call in Shayera” she says to one of the guards who nods and slams her fist against her chest plate, rushing from the tent into the night. 

It is silent as the former Wonder Woman paces about the tent, stopping to pick up something from her chest. She turns the plastic tank in her hands, admiring it from this angle and that before she puts it back down. “Did you know that Thomas loved plastic army men?” she asks, moving around the sorceress again, giving her the mental image of a shark stalking its prey.

Zee smiles nervously, hoping to be able to ingratiate herself again by speaking positively of the woman’s late son. “I remember” she teases. “I was the one who brought them to life for him on his ninth birthday. Ohh he loved leading them across the manor. Bruce and you even got in on the game. Bruce led the tans and you and Tommy led the greens” she says, already losing herself in the happy past. She doesn’t notice the look of pain that crosses the woman’s face, her tears beginning to slip down her cheeks.

“He was such a good boy” she says, her mind fixated on the dark little locks of her son. She can even remember his smell, and she forces it back into her mind.

“He was” Zee says, not realizing the danger she was in. “So much like Bruce. Always looking. I lost count of the amount of times he was able to sneak up on me or how he would overhear everything and bring it up at the most inopportune times. But he was a lot like you too. Sweet and openly caring. He brought out the best of both of you” she says just as Shayera enters.

The winged woman wore a neutral facial expression, but she assumes that the situation has lessened in severity upon seeing Zee’s smiling face and Diana with a toy tank in her hands. “Yes my goddess? You called for me?” she asks, taking Diana out of her private thoughts. “Yes” she says, turning and placing the tank back down on the chest.

“I have decided to elevate you to my second in command” she says, a shocked expression coming to both Shayera and Zatanna’s face. “Magic has failed me and our cause, and so I’m thinking brute strength will win the day” Diana says, reaching out and clasping the Thanagarian on the shoulder.

“You have been rewarded for your hard work sister” she says, smiling at the woman though the warmth doesn’t reach her eyes. “Do not fail me” she says, drawing a nervous and shaky nod from the other woman. “Now, I want you to take a phalanx into the downtown section of Gotham. Take hostages and execute half of them. Crucify or decapitate them, I don’t care. What I do care about is that Bruce sees how many are dying to protect him” she explains.

“If he doesn’t turn himself in to me, then I want the others to break so much that they have no choice but to throw him out to us. He isn’t to be harmed though” she clarifies with fire in her eyes. “He is to be brought to me instead” she says. 

“Understood?” she asks.

“Understood Diana” Shayera says, bowing low as Zee looks away, having had her position stripped from her without ceremony. “Good. Now go. I want this operation carried out as soon as possible. I expect results”.

“It will be done my Queen. May I take Lydia’s group? They do have the most experience with urban warfare” she explains. “I do not care for the details” Diana says, dismissing the woman with a wave of the hand. “Whatever you need is at your disposal, just get it done” she says.

“Of..”

“Get out and carry out your orders” she snarls, tiring of the constant grating obeisance. Shayera nods and without another word turns and exits the tent, leaving only Diana, the two Amazon guards, and Zee within. Diana laughs to herself before turning to Zatanna.

“Ohh I’m sorry Zee. Please, don’t have any hard feelings towards me” she says, suddenly cheerful as she comes up to the woman and places her hands on the woman’s shoulders. “I need this accomplished and I just can’t keep waiting for you to deliver”.

“Ohh...of course Diana...I...I understand” Zatanna stutters, not believing her good fortune in just being able to survive. “Do you remember what I promised to you?” she asks, reaching out to rub a finger gently along the sorceress cheek. “Of course” she responds with an uncomfortable tone in her voice. “You...you promised to save me from….”

“The consequences of your own actions” Diana supplies with a chuckle. “You sold your soul to a demon Zatanna” she says, making disapproving clicking noises with her tongue. “Constantine tricked me!” she snarls in response before stepping back, fearful that she’d stoked the woman’s ire one more.

No sign of that remains on the woman’s face however, and she just keeps smiling. “Do you know what I’ve realized Zee?” Diana asks. Before giving the woman a chance to ask the goddess of war keeps on. “I’ve realized that I was so stupid for believing that men were the only problem with the world. I mean, of course, they’re part of it, but do you want to know the true problem with this world?” she asks.

“Weakness” 

She pauses and nods to herself, feeling that what she was about to say was very important. “Weakness. I noticed something when coming to man’s world. Women were not as oppressed as I thought. Ohh of course in some nations here and there, but in the west? No. No. They had power and controlled quite a lot of...how would I put this? The social dialogue. Yes that’s it” she teases. “There was all sorts of things in woman’s corner, and how did they use it?”

Her face darkens at the question and she nods. “They tweeted. They complained and they did all the same as the men. They took advantage of their easy lives and they complained and they bitched and they moaned” she seethes. 

“They were no better. And then it came to me. It all clicked” she says. “They were weak. Weakness was what the entire society had in common with each other. Hardship and deprivation were so far out of their realm that they had to invent it. A war of hashtags if you will. But now? They crumple beneath true adversity Zee. Women, I reserve a special scorn for the women of “man’s world” she admits.

“Do you know why?” she asks, this time allowing the now gulping woman to get out a garbled, “why?”.

“Because they allow themselves to be “victims”. Everyone has fetishized being a victim. That is why the Amazonian and Atlantean vision will win” she explains. “It is based on strength. It does not grovel and pontificate, it acts. The Spartans of old, the Amazons of today. There is no difference” she says. “You were weak for allowing John Constantine to trick you. Weak in that you wallowed in your victimhood and begged for a savior. Weak, weak weak” she says, punctuating each word with a gentle slap to the woman’s cheek. 

With a sigh and shrug Diana turns around, looking back on the chest, specifically at her son’s toys she had arranged on top of it. ‘Tanks in front, infantry in back’ she says in her mind, though she hears it in Tommy’s voice. ‘He always was a tactician’.

“You came to me and I helped you” she says. “I killed the demon and sent him back to whence he came with the understanding, implied of course, that you would never be weak again” Diana says, her tone of voice reverting to how it was when they’d initially begun this conversation. Zee takes a startled step back but is stopped from further retreat by Diana’s campaign table.

“Yet, here you are. Apologizing and stuttering, begging for another chance and promising what you already have failed to deliver” Diana says, drawing her sword with lightning quickness. Zatanna makes to speak, opening her mouth in the hopes of using a spell to get away. Diana is faster though, and as soon as the woman’s mouth is opened only a startled grunt escapes it. She looks down, her eyes landing on the sword which was now wedged in her mid section. 

“Ugggghhhhh” she moans, knowing that she was dying.

Diana leans in, holding the woman close and hugging her about the shoulders, her mouth only centimeters from the other woman’s ear. “I want you to know” she begins. “One day, when Bruce and I break through the gates of Hades itself and rend the underworld asunder, I will find you, and I will inflict more pain upon you for the unforgivable crime of weakness” she snarls.

Before anything else can be said, Diana twists the blade and retracts it, leaving a gaping open wound for the woman to try and desperately close with her hands. It’s a losing battle and the sorceress falls to her knees, her blood staining the planks as she looks up at her former friend, who has only cold unsympathetic eyes to greet her with. 

“Tell Hades that he will not hide forever” she says. “I have slaughtered Olympus, and he will be next”.

Zatanna feels her life ebbing away, and her eyes slowly close before she falls forward, dead.

Diana reaches down and wipes the blood off of her blade on the woman, resheathing it quickly following that. She begins to walk out of the tent, turning to the guards only once. “Take this worthless pile of shit and add her to the pile for Shayera to display. Let Bruce know that I’m solving some of his problems in the process” she explains, casting not another look at the woman who had served her faithfully as she walks out into the night, her thoughts rushing back to late night cuddles with her husband and son.

Dead memories were all she had, though one day soon she would reverse it all. ‘I swear it’ she thinks, solemnly vowing to herself and the Earth Mother Gaia.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Last Hope Dining Hall, One Month Later_ **

Vic was looking at his daughter from across the table, his eyes set on her sadness and the way she barely picks at her plate of spaghetti. “Sweetie…” he begins tediously, not wanting to sound as if he was chastising her. She looks up, sad brown eyes boring into her father’s soul. “Yeah daddy?” she asks, the sound of unspent tears staining her voice.

Vic is momentarily lost, not able to cope with the shattered look on his little girl’s face. ‘She shouldn’t know what this feels like’ he says to himself before shaking the thought away. ‘Well she does, and you’re her father. Make it better’

“I just want you to eat your dinner Maria” he says, his tone neutral and reminiscent of his Question persona. “Okay” she says simply, picking up the fork and twirling it on the plate, getting some of the delicious pasta on the utensil and bringing it to her mouth. She eats it, but with none of the stereotypical gusto that she used to. “Maria...I miss her too” he says, somewhat helplessly, though he knew it to be the truest thing he’d ever said.

The little girl stops, sitting stock still as her little frame is rocked by sobs that she tries to keep in but fails to. The dam breaks and soon enough his daughter is crying once more. He is up in a flash and moving to the other side of the table to take a seat on the bench besides the little girl. He wraps one arm around her, melding the small body into his side and pressing his nose into her hair, kissing her head. 

“I know sweetie. I know” he says, letting her little arms wrap about him. “Why...why...wh...why did aunt Diana kill her?” she sobs, causing the man to close his eyes and hug her even tighter. “I don’t know sweetie. But, pain makes people do awful things. It changes them...and what Diana went through...I don’t know what I would’ve done” he explains, though he knows it isn’t enough of an explanation. 

Maybe it wouldn’t ever be.

“I hate her” she says angrily, her little voice taking on a harsh quality. “I want her to die”.

The venom in the little girl’s voice shocks him, but he knows it shouldn’t. It was all Helena. “I do to” he admits, knowing he could be honest with his daughter who was much smarter than other kids her age. “But we can’t let that win. That hatred, that anger. When I met your mom I fell in love with her instantly” he says with a smile, thinking back through time. “The way she moved, talked and teased me. She was just open and honest about who she was. With how pervasive the conspiracy was, and how little I could trust those around me I sometimes didn’t even trust myself” he admits. 

“There was your mother. A beacon of truth that I knew I could instinctively trust. She was my soulmate Maria” he says, holding back his tears to be strong for his daughter. He was finding it harder and harder, his mind flashing with images of Helena’s teasing smile, the way she’d hold him and entrance him with her eyes.

“You’re so much like her Maria, and I think that’s made this a little easier” he says. “Knowing that there was still the best parts of Helena in the world. So please sweetie, I know you feel the anger and hate, but please don’t let it consume you. Don’t hold onto that anger. Just….try and remember the good things about mommy. How she lived” he says, calming the still sobbing little girl in his arms. She quiets, the shaking reduced slightly as she calms. 

“I...I remember how she called me el...el” she says, struggling with the Italian that Helena often spoke. “Il mio tesoro” he supplies, causing the little girl to nod emphatically. “That!” she says, as if she had discovered some long lost treasure. “What does that mean daddy? I never asked her” she says regretfully.

“It means ‘my little sweetie’. You were the center of your mother’s world Maria. You really were” he explains, brushing his hand through her hair. “Mine too” he adds. That was possibly the most comforting fact available to him. ‘You were alone, but Maria has you’ he thinks, knowing he would do everything in his power to protect his little girl. 

“You know that? Right princess?” he asks, gently nudging the little girl who smiles tepidly up at him. Her attention is momentarily taken away though, and she looks quizzically towards the table. Her eyes go wide and she points with unhidden glee. “Daddy look!” she shouts, causing Vic to indeed turn his head towards the table, searching out what his daughter was looking at.

He is shocked by what he sees, as a small whale flitters about in the air. It was made completely of water, and it flitters around the little girl who laughs enthusiastically. “Look at that! Dad...how cool!” she says, not questioning the origins of such a manifestation at all. Vic was much more concerned.

The whale takes one more lap around Maria’s head before it jumps through the air and lands back in the cup that had been on the table before them. Maria is shocked, but their confusion doesn’t last long as a blonde woman in Atlantean robes walks up. She seemed shy, but it was clear that she was the source of the manifestation. “I...I’m sorry. It just seemed as if she might enjoy something like that” Neriva says, Vic eyeing her suspiciously. “You did that?” Maria asks, awe painted on her face. 

“Yes. Did you like it?” she asks, moving up closer to the duo. Vic remains silent, not wanting to be anywhere near an Atlantean but also enjoying the smile on his daughter’s face. ‘I haven’t seen her smile since Helena died’.

Maria just nods and smiles, looking back towards the cup of water before returning to the blonde. “Can...can you do it again?” she asks shyly. The blonde nods and sits down besides the girl, extending her hand to summon the water again. It rises out of the cup in ball form, and hovers in the air. “What sea creature would you like?” she asks the dark haired little girl who claps her hands together.

“Ohh a sea turtle? Please? I love sea turtles” she says, causing Vic to nod to himself. ‘She always has loved them’ he thinks. Neriva nods and the water soon forms into the creature in question, which moves closer and closer to Maria, just brushing her nose before “swimming” away through the air. Maria giggles and watches as the turtle jumps back into the cup, allowing her to wipe the wetness away from her nose. 

“When I was a little girl, we would grab onto their shells and we would ride them” she says. “Really?” Maria asks, receiving a gentle nod from the woman. “Uhh hmm. We would feed them jellyfish as well. We were careful to avoid the stingers” she says, drawing even more appreciation from the little girl. She turns to look at Vic to smile but the man just gazes at her coldly. “Alright Maria” he says, looking down at the little girl. “Time for bed”. He picks her up and nestles her against his shoulder.

“But daddy…” she whines, already yawning at the mention of sleep. “Sorry princess, but I’m the commanding officer here” he says, patting her back. Maris wiggles in his grasp, turning back towards the blonde woman and waving. “Goodnight..hey, what’s your name?” she asks, causing Vic to stay in place to let his daughter finish their conversation, still not wanting to be rude. “Nireva” the woman says, standing up to be at eye level with the little girl. “And what’s your name?”

“Maria Eleonora Sage” she yawns, telling the woman her middle name as well, her eyelids drooping. “What a pretty name” Nireva says, looking towards Vic and hoping to be polite to him as well. “Thank you. Yours too” she says, falling asleep in her father’s arms. “What a precious little girl” Nireva says.

“She is” Vic retorts, turning and walking away without another word, leaving a confused and slightly angered Atlantean servant behind. “Hmmph” she huffs to herself, returning to the table to pick at the food she’d gotten from the kitchen. “These surface dwellers are beyond rude!” she says to herself. “Don’t they understand that we’re on their side?”

**_Last Hope Briefing Room, The Next Day_ **

“We’re working on tracking their movements madam president” Barbara says, seated in her wheelchair with papers and maps splayed out before her. “But we are rather limited right now on what we can do. We can’t stay on the surface too long, and any drone or aircraft we send up is almost instantly taken out by the Atlantean anti air screen” she says, watching as the black woman’s face is twisted up into a scowl.

“We don’t seem to have these problems inland Mrs. Drake” she says, voicing her displeasure.

“With all due respect Waller” Bruce says, interjecting. “We don’t have to fight the Atlanteans inland. And the crack Amazonians are all here. We need support and reinforcements. You’ve promised them for a long time now” he says, his eyes narrowing. “Last Hope was meant to hold them and distract them, giving you enough time to mount a counterattack. We want to know when that attack is going to materialize” he says.

Waller is diplomatic but he can read it on her face. She reaches up, removing her glasses and sighing, pinching her nose. “Bruce….there has been...there are complications now” she says, holding something back.

“What kind of complications?”

“The Flash is dead” she says evenly, causing shock to reverberate throughout the group. “What?” Bruce asks, utterly dismayed at the loss of one of his last friends.

“Cancer apparently” Waller says. “We found out months ago, but you know Allen” she says with a wry smile. “He kept it to himself for much longer than that. With his body and the effects of the speed force it advanced far too rapidly for us to do anything about it. He died yesterday” she says. 

Silence descends on the room, the officer corps already discussing amongst themselves what this meant for Last Hope.

“Barry was going to lead the assault” Barbara says, the fear palpable in her voice. “Who’s going to replace him?” she asks. “We don’t have a replacement” Waller says. “The metahumans that have put themselves at our disposal are already fighting on other fronts. What’s left of the Titans, mostly Cyborg and Beast Boy, are trying to desperately fend off an Atlantean incursion on the west coast as we speak while Captain Marvel and the Atom are in Alaska disrupting whatever it is the Atlanteans are planning up there” she admits. “We’re hemorrhaging heroes as well, many women cutting their losses and joining up with Diana” she says.

“So we’re screwed? Is that what yer’ sayin’ Waller? We’re fucked without even a reacharound?” Harley asks acidicly while Deadshot stands as well though it was more to hold her back from saying something she’d regret.    
  
President Waller regards her former prisoners with cold indifference before turning back to Bruce. “The only thing keeping the United States in this fight is the fact that Supergirl is in space” she says. “Looks like the Alliance bit off more than they could chew and she has to make sure that Darkseid stays away. The Green Lantern corps has also been trying to get to Earth, but another war has broken out between Thanagar and Tamaran apparently, so my sources tell me”.

“Now is the best time to attack” a new voice says, entering the room and instantly drawing everyone’s attention to her. Queen Mera stood at the head of the table, regal and strong in her bearing. “Ahh the Atlantean Queen” Waller says with a dismissive glare. “I have no idea why Wayne decided to save you, but rest assured, you’ll be tried and probably shot when this is all over”.

Mera returns the glare with equal force, a battle of wills breaking out between the two leaders. Bruce had to admire the redheaded woman. ‘No kingdom, no soldiers beyond a platoon and she looks ready to take on the world’ he thinks with a smile. 

“I have looked at the disposition of the Atlantean and Amazonian forces” she says, drawing everyone’s attention even further. “I can tell you that the Atlanteans are much weaker here than you’d think” she says, producing one of the maps and placing it on the table. The red blocks around Gotham city were indicative of Alliance forces while the blue was used to show where the American military was doggedly holding on. The blocks didn’t portray the reality. These weren’t full units. They were ad hoc slapped together franken-forces, oftentimes composed of nothing more than civilians with rifles. 

Still, they were holding.

  
For now.

“I see that the flank forces appear to be weaker” she says. “One of Arthur’s classic tricks. He wants to lure you in to attack his flanks before enveloping you in a double pincer from the center. It is called the Lobster stratagem” she says, instantly intriguing Bruce.

He’d spoken intermittently to the woman over the past month, but that was more for the purpose of appraising the political situation in Atlantis. He hadn’t thought to pick her brain on strategy.    
  
‘Must be losing my touch’ he thinks as the woman goes on.

“Now, it is also doubly clear that Diana’s forces are being fed and supplied by Arthur’s. After all, Gotham is rubble and they haven’t broken out into any significant agricultural area. There is nowhere else she could go to feed her troops” she says, looking up to see that Waller was watching her. “Atlantis is waging a war on numerous fronts, this not even being the most important one”.

“And which front is the important one?” Harley asks, a little miffed at the woman’s insinuation. “Cuz’ I sure as hell fell like this one is important considerin’ how many times I’ve been shot at or stabbed at!”.

“No, it is important” Mera corrects, wanting to soothe the woman. “But not to Arthur” she says, looking back towards Bruce. “Last month’s gruesome display was a scare tactic. Diana wanted us to give up Bruce. Why? We don’t know, but whatever her reasoning Arthur doesn’t share it and if what I know of Arthur’s relationship with Diana” she says, for once not feeling the uncontrollable rage at the thought of the man and woman together, “he doesn’t like her fixation on Bruce” she says.

He turns to the woman and wonders what she’s driving at. “He’s all about moving onto the future and crushing the past. We can use this against them” she says, looking sheepish all of the sudden.

“How do you suggest we do that Mera?” Waller asks, intrigued at the woman’s line of reasoning. “We unsteady him” she says, looking towards Bruce, an apology in her eyes. “We do that by getting to Diana. We need Bruce to be in the open…” she admits, drawing the hushed whispers of the entire group who looks at the former vigilante with a mixture of curiosity and hope.

For Bruce? He feels the panic begin to overtake him, and he can barely keep from shaking. Mera notices instantly, and she regrets saying anything while moving closer to the man and placing a hand on his shoulder. She doesn’t say anything, not trusting herself to not dig her hole any deeper, but it does seem to have the desired effect on the man.

“We need Bruce her….”

“No Barbara” Bruce says, turning to the redheaded woman with a disarming look. “She’s right” he says, patting Mera’s hand and standing up, addressing the whole room. The panic was still there, his mind fixated on the trail of bodies behind him. He hears their voices, whispering in his ear. Alfred, Clark, Dick, Tim and even Diana. The one that strikes him the most is his son, urging him to do the right thing.

“In the past month we’ve seen a lot of death” he says, leaning forward on the table. “All with the intent of driving me into the open. I think it’s time I stopped hiding, and I think it’s time we take the fight to them”.

The council erupts into cheers, Harley letting out a loud wolf whistle before clapping enthusiastically. Bruce nods, waiting until the room settles down. “Do you have a plan?” Waller asks skeptically. “I do...but I need some time” he says, looking towards Barbara. “You’re in charge of executive operations now”. She looks down, obviously nervous about taking up such a heady responsibility. He turns to the seated Question, who had remained quiet up until this point. “Question will assist you. Quinn, you’re now under Oracle’s command”.

“Well that’s going to be a ton of fun! Ain’t it cutie?” she says, jabbing Lawton in the side. “Oww” he says, rubbing his side and glaring at the woman before nodding. “Yeah. We’re at your disposal Oracle” he says halfheartedly.

“Mera, you, Oracle and Waller come up with an overarching game plan” he says, the panic receding a bit around the edges, but still remaining there in his mind. “I’m going to come up with my own” he says before turning, exiting the room. 

“A plan for what? And how long will it take?” Barbara asks with concern. Bruce stops in his tracks and turns his head over his shoulder. “To cripple the Amazons. Give me a week” he says, leaving the rest to discuss the other more militant aspects of the plan.

“Well” Barbara says at first, glaring at the Atlantean queen. “What’s first?”

**_Last Hope Atlantean Quarters_ **

“So, you’ve always been her friend?” asks Maria, seated in Neriva’s lap as the woman goes through her hair with a brush. She works on the knots gently, easing them out while not causing any pain. “Uhhmm” she responds, enjoying her company.

“Wow, you really did let your hair go” Neriva says. Maria goes silent, holding it in and calming. ‘Be strong’ she hears, though it was in her mother’s voice. She’d been experiencing that alot, hearing or seeing her mother out of the corner of her eye. At first she’d been frightened, but over time it became really comforting. 

She didn’t even know why but she’d been feeling this….pull towards the blonde Atlantean woman, and she didn’t know why. When she had tried to brush her own hair and wound up catching knots and crying, her mother’s voice whispered, “go to Nireva tesoro” and here she was. 

Nireva had been experiencing the same thing as well, her mind going to the sad little girl and her protective father whenever she wasn’t watching Arthur. She felt a...presence around her often, and it would always lead her to the little girl. It had happened often, too often. But she didn’t care. She was coming to cherish spending time with Maria. Watching her laugh and smile at the antics she could do with that water that had flooded the lower caverns. Now these tunnels served as the temporary home of the lowborn Atlantean soldiers who couldn’t breathe above water.

“My mom used to brush my hair” Maria says, causing Nireva to stop, slowly continuing. She had apologized so often for her loss, but she didn’t know how to comfort her. ‘All you can do is be there’ a voice says, a voice that somehow comes from inside of her but isn’t her own. “If you ever need me...for anything..” she says haltingly. Maria smiles, a sad little smile as Nireva brings the brush down and sets it to the side. Maria turns in the seat and hugs the woman tightly, her tears leaking down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry” she sobs, shocking the Atlantean woman. 

“For what dear?” she asks, desperate to calm the little girl. “I...I...I keep asking…” she says, beginning to hyperventilate. Nireva acts fast and places her hands on either side of the little girl’s face. It calms her, and allows her to speak more clearly, though the tears keep coming. “I..I keep asking you to do things my mommy used to, but that’s not right because...I’m not your daughter and it isn’t right to ask you...and, it isn’t right to mommy because...I’m betraying her” she admits, showing a surprising level of intelligence.

‘So smart, but so wrong’ Nireva thinks, smiling as she hugs the girl tight to her chest. “Ohh honey. No, no. Maria, if you need my help, with anything you can ask! It isn’t uncomfortable for me. I care for Arthur all the time and he isn’t mine is he?”

“N..no” she says, wiping her tears away. 

“But I love and care for him all the same” she says. “And you are such a special little girl Maria. Your mother would be so proud of you regardless of if you have a friend to help you with some things she did” Nireva finishes.    
  
“Alright? So I don’t want you feeling guilty at all okay?” she asks, looking deeply into the girl’s eyes. “Okay?” she reiterates, getting a nod from Maria. “Okay” she says meekly. “Good, now, can I finish brushing your hair?”

Maria nods and turns around, letting the Atlantean resume her post. “Such beautiful hair you have. So soft” she says, not seeing who was watching them. Helena Sage smiles to herself, floating in the air as she studies her daughter.

“It’s okay sweetie” she whispers, having come out of Nireva’s body moments before. She regards the blonde Atlantean with appreciation. “If I can’t be there for her in the way I need to be, I’ll damn well make sure someone is, so you better do you job blondie” she says, though the woman couldn’t hear her.

The Huntress was gone, and in her place was now the Deadwoman. She wore a red one piece, a neatly emblazoned D over her chest. Her skin had taken on a deathly shade, though her flowing black hair had remained the same. “From practicing Catholic to servant of some Hindu goddess. God forgive me. This is temporary I promise” she says, making the sign of the cross and continuing to watch the two.

“I’m so sorry Maria” she says, tears coming to her own eyes. “I..I should’ve just ran. You, me and daddy like he wanted. Hid in the mountains. I’d still be with you. But I couldn’t run. I want more for you than a life spent in hiding. One day, I hope you understand” she finishes, feeling someone walk right through her.

She is instantly overtaken by the sorrow she feels from the individual, a deep hidden sadness that the man, for she knew exactly who it was, tried to bury. “There you are” Vic says, entering through the large open doors. “What did I say about going off on your own Maria?” he asks, getting on a knee and lightly scolding her. Helena chuckles, bringing her hand over her mouth. “Stop trying to be the tough parent Vic” she teases. “You’re no good at it”.

“I’m sorry daddy” she says, looking down while Nireva opens her mouth to explain.

“It’s alright...I guess...just...tell me when you go off sweetie. Especially around here” he says. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Nireva asks defensively. Before an argument could break out Maria interrupts. “I can’t swim” she admits. “He’s scared that I might...well...drown” she says.

“Thinking on your feet Maria. Good girl. Smart. Like your daddy. I just like to punch things” Helena says, floating over by Vic and reaching out to touch his cheek. She closes her eyes and sighs, letting the loneliness and sadness wash over her. “Well, it’s too soon for you to jump in bed with another woman mister” she says to the non responsive man. “But..I do want you be in love again. So, I’m going to make this slow and push you two together. It’ll be good for Maria, and it’ll be good for you” she says, leaning in to kiss the man’s cheek. 

He seems to respond to that, looking about curiously and closing his eyes. It fills her heart with joy and sadness to feel that he was thinking about her. 

“I’m...I’m sorry Nireva. I was being rude” he says, wanting to extend an olive branch to the woman who was helping Maria. The blonde smiles gently at the man, glad to have finally broken through a bit with him. “It’s alright...Mr. Sage”.

“Just call me Vic. Everyone does” he admits.

“Well if everyone knows your name and who you are, why do you keep wearing that mask?” she asks curiously. “It’s kind of just something that helps me” he says, not wanting to discuss it too much. “Pffft, it’s his security blanket toots” Helena says, rubbing along his chest. 

“Alright, here’s the deal” she says, looking at the woman she was scheming to push into her family. “I know everything about you. Been inside your body and all so kind of know who you are. Anyways, this man right here? He’s mine. I got up with him in front of God and told everyone he was mine. Capire? So, you’re just going to be borrowing him” she says fiercely.

“He needs someone, and so does my daughter, so you’re standing in for me. Just know that when you and him are making love, I’m going to pop in and take over from time to time. You won’t know it, won’t remember it, but that’s the deal”. She rolls her eyes and sighs to herself. “Wasting my time, talking to myself. Anyways, I’m making sure you do right by them! You’re getting a good deal out of this too” she says, drifting over to the woman and readying herself to slip into her body.

“As emotionally quiet as he can be from time to time, he’s an amazing lay” she whispers, chuckling to herself as she moves into the woman’s body. Nireva shudders for a second before blinking. If one looked closely, they’d see that the woman wasn’t normal. She smiles down at Maria and brings her hand to her shoulder before turning back towards Vic. “I’d like to teach her how to swim if you’d be okay with that” she says, smiling at him in a way that stops the man cold. He shakes away the sense of dejavu, just in time for Helena to escape Nireva’s body, the Atlantean quickly coming back into control. 

She moves over into Vic quickly, wanting to give an affirmative answer. “Alright, that would be okay, as long as I can come and make sure she’s alright” Helena says through Vic, shocking Maria who fully expected her father to turn the woman down. Nireva smiles wide, her hand still on Maria’s shoulder. “Ohh of course! I’d prefer you be there Vic” she says, suddenly realizing what she’d said and blushing. 

Vic is quiet as well, fighting the enjoyment he got out of seeing the woman smile before. ‘So much like Helena’s’ he thinks, the silence descending on them being uncomfortable and quiet though Maria seems to regard the two curiously. 

Helena just scoffs from her floating position beside her. “Ppffft. So they already are attracted to each other huh?” she asks Maria who naturally doesn’t answer. “Your father never liked blondes….or at least I didn’t think so….well isn’t this a dolore al sedere?” she asks. “I want them to EVENTUALLY” she says, stressing the word, “get together, and here they are already making goo goo eyes at each other”.

“Ahhhh, well, at least this is easier than my other job sweetie” she says, brushing her hand through the little girl’s hair which acted as a breeze that gently moved her dark locks. “I have to help uncle Bruce and the rest kick your aunt’s ass” she says, moving off through the ceiling, something telling her that she needed to be above ground.

**_Downtown Gotham_ **

The Amazonian patrol was moving through the debris slowly, having to pick their way their the fallen concrete. Zoe cursed to herself, dropping her spear and shield as her foot is caught once again on a loose piece of rebar. “Gods damn this cursed city” she says to herself, drawing laugh from Lyiastra, who offers her a hand up. “The sooner we take it, the sooner we can go back to Themyscira” she says, throwing a hand up to signal a stop for the rest of the patrol. 

Zoe pulls her foot out of the hole caused by the shifting rubble, and sighs to herself, rubbing her ankle. “I don’t think we’re ever going home” she admits, letting the other woman sit beside her. “What makes you say that?” Lyiastra asks, removing her helmet to place it alongside the woman’s spear and shield.    
  
“The look in her eyes mostly”

“Whose eyes?”

“Hera’s. Who else?” Zoe snaps, hating the fact that they could no longer be honest with their own sisters in arms. They had to couch what they said in quiet whispers and hope that the goddess of war wasn’t listening. “I see that mad look in her eyes. She wants to burn the world, not save it”.

Lyiastra shrugs, bringing forth a campaign amphora of wine and drinking deeply, handing it off to Zoe who refuses with a gentle wave of her hand. She plugs the neck once more, returning it to the sling she’d fashioned for it. 

“She lost her son” she says, as if that was all the explanation she ever needed to give.

“If she was a true Amazon, she never would have had a son” Zoe fumes. “Nor come to man’s world, married a man and now fallen in with yet another man. What are we doing here? Truly? What purpose does any of this serve?” Zoe says, her rant gaining steam.

“We were meant to hide away from the world and its corruption, yet here she is fighting for it. She lost her son as a punishment from the gods, her hubris…”

The woman’s words are interrupted by the sound of something slicing through the air and before either of the two warrior women could react, the object impacts right into Zoe’s hand, tearing through the flesh and causing the woman to scream in agony. She holds her hand up by the wrist, blood already pouring out from it and splattering onto the dust covered street below. 

They instantly see what the object is, and their hearts are filled with dread.    
  
Lyiastra reaches forward and pulls it out, studying it closer as she ignores her comrades yelps of pain. “Ohh gods” she says, reaching for her spear. “He’s back!” she shouts, jumping up with the ash handle in her hands. She thrusts it up into the air, shouting for the Amazons to assume a defensive pattern. It becomes impossible however, as two balls are thrown into the street. With a small explosion an impenetrable wall of gas covers everything and everyone, obscuring the view of the trained soldiers.

“Assume…” Zoe starts, coughing up as the smoke fills her lung. She isn’t able to get another word out, as a black gloved fist impacts against her temple, sending the woman sprawling to the ground. Lyiastra hears and sees her friend and leader sprawled out, but doesn’t have time to react as she too is attacked, a punch to the gut disarming her as she drops her spear, and another punch directly to the throat taking her out of the fight.

The other Amazons draw closer, the gas slowly dispersing but remaining condensed around the area where their leaders had fallen. “What do we do?” one nervously asks, watching as a shadow moves quickly through the fog. All she sees is a dark shape, and she reacts without thinking, throwing her spear in an attempt to stop the assault. It is all for nothing, and the projectile lands and imbeds itself upon the concrete. 

Others join hers, the others joining her in their mad attempt to stop the assault. “Idiots!” one shouts. “Stop wasting them! Only throw your spear when you know you can hit something. Draw swords. NOW!” she shouts, panic creeping into her as she is forced to lead this platoon despite her junior status. 

The woman nearest to her reaches down to grasp the spatha she kept sheathed on her belt, but before she can fully draw it a claw reaches out from the smoke and wraps about her wrist, preventing any further movement. She looks down in shock at the device and before she or anyone else can do anything she is pulled forward, her body careening out of sight as she screams in terror. The sound of a scuffle is heard, and none of the others move, afraid of receiving the same treatment. 

“Achilleas!” one of them shouts, her call responded too by the rolling of a helmet out into the street, obviously having belonged to the now missing Achilleas. “Enough of this! We need to attack or he’ll pick us off one by one. It’s the cowards way. Sisters, ready yourselves…” she shouts, before another batarang is thrown through the mist. 

She ducks, but the Amazon behind her is not so lucky. The metal weapon impacts against her mid section, the innate electrical charge shocking her before shorting out. She falls to the ground, moaning in pain.    
  
A shape emerges from the fog, having someone gotten above them as it falls through the mist. This time there was no chance for escape and the Amazons each take turns wildly thrusting. The Batman smiles, something that they had never thought possible from how Diana had spoken of her former husband. But here was, smiling like a madman. 

He lands first on a blonde Amazon, taking her spear and snapping it before cracking the half broken shaft across another’s face. A third rushes forward only to be met by a sweep to her leg which takes her down to the ground. A punch to the face ends her charge before the dark clad man turns to glare at the three remaining soldiers.

They look at each other nervously, deciding on a course of action before they each nod, agreeing that working together was the only chance they now had. With a fanatical cry they charge into battle.

Bruce is unphased and simply rushes straight at them as well. He jumps up, using a the wreck of a car to catapult him into the air. He lands behind the first two and ducks as the spear from the trailing woman rushes past where he used to be and into the calf of her forward sister. With a cry of pain the woman falls, taking the spear with her and disarming the rearward Amazon who desperately tries to draw her sword. Bruce doesn’t give her a chance as he reaches forward and dislocates her shoulder with a single move, throwing the woman into intense agony. 

He turns, taking his time to face this last one as he envelops her in a bear hug, crushing the air out of her before throwing them both to the ground, rendering the woman unconscious with multiple bruised or broken ribs. Bruce slowly stands, scrutinizing the battlefield and feeling himself slowly come down from the plateau of adrenaline that had been forced into his system. 

“Hrrrm” he growls to himself, turning towards the only still conscious Amazon who was holding her shoulder while writhing in pain. He walks toward her slowly, his cape billowing out behind him and casting a huge shadow over the woman who looks up at him with uncharacteristic fear. “You know who I am” the man states, more statement than question.    
  
She gulps and nods, not able to find it in her to continue the fight. “Good. That means that the story will be communicated to your goddess correctly” he says, placing his foot on the woman’s kneecap and pressing until a satisfying snap echoes out across the street. The woman’s cries are tenfold as her one functioning arm reaches down to inspect the ruins of her patella.

“Should’ve worn full greaves” he says mockingly, not moved by pity at all for the women who’d been committing full scale war against all of mankind. 

“You are going to be my message” he says, glaring as he turns and begins to walk away. “You know what to tell her”.

Just like that, he is gone, leaving the woman in an agonizing state of pain and fear. ‘Gods give me strength’ she thinks, knowing that she would have to answer for this failure.

**_Atlantean Flagship, Just Outside of Gotham Harbor_ **

Arthur was sitting in deep contemplation, his trident laying beside him as he sat on the throne specifically erected to communicate his power. “Captain” he calls, a grey haired older man coming to his side instantly. “Yes my king?” he asks, though there was more fear than enthusiasm within his voice. 

“How far are we from the Amazonian base camp?” he asks.

  
“Only a few miles my king”.

“Good. We shall make landfall tonight” Arthur says, worrying the captain. 

“But my king, the surface dwellers will be able to see us if we even attempt to land” he says. “Their artillery, while not a match for our own, is more than sufficient to…”

“Is that disagreement I hear?” Arthur asks coldly, his hand reaching out to grasp his trident, idly stroking it while balefully regarding the captain. He instantly backs down and shakes his head to the negative. “No my liege. Never. I was merely suggesting..”

“Keep your suggestions” Arthur says, already bored with the grovelling weakling. ‘Just when I thought something interesting would happen’ he says to himself, having wanted to make an example of someone for a long time.

“We will come in openly and on the offensive” he says, standing up and looking out into the underwater wreckage of Gotham harbor. “We must show the surface dwellers that we mean to eradicate them unless they surrender” he says. “I also know that my former wife is here with the usurper” he says. “I want them to feel the cold grip of fear at knowing that I’ve come for them” he says, having been informed by his brother Orm that Mera had escaped. 

“Yes my king. It will be as you say” the captain says.

“Yes, it will” he reiterates, sinking back into his chair as the flagship crashes against the waterlogged bodies of American sailors. They are pushed forward and off of the observation windows, but there are too many to avoid. He didn’t wish too anyway. He could almost smile at how giddy he was.

The war was not going as well as he had hoped by this point, and he had been fought to a standstill in many places. Diana’s incessant obsession with Gotham was also a thorn in his side. It prevented her from thinking rationally and appraising the situation, but he knew that all of their problems would end. Soon he would have his kingdom secured, the surface world cowed and the goddess of war in his bed.

He was practically salivating at the thought of not only sating his lust on the Amazonian queen, but as well as using her power to further his own goals. ‘Once an outsider, a half breed, looked down upon by all of Atlantis’ he fumes. ‘No more. I have extended Atlantis to her greatest level yet and will continue to do so, and when this is all over I will fuck Diana on the burning pyre that is this world’ he thinks, hearing the alarm klazons blare about the ship, warning the crew that they were going to surface.

“All crew, to your stations! Prepare to engage the enemy. For the glory of Atlantis!” the announcer shouts, causing Arthur to stand and watch as the entire bridge stands and salutes him, each shouting, “for the glory of Atlantis!”

He raises his trident and smacks it’s rear against the floor, echoing the shout as well. “For the glory of Atlantis” he says, though his eyes were fixed upon the destroyed Gotham skyline. Somewhere in or beneath the city was his former wife. The fosterer of rebellions and the betrayer.

‘I want her head on a pike’ he thinks, resolving to give it to the Amazon as a wedding gift. ‘After all, would it not be fitting for the goddess of war?’

**_Amazonian Medical Camp_ **

There was a blur of activity, the rushing of figures and the cries of the wounded overload the sense of many of the Amazons who despair at seeing such an open display of their defeat. Diana is nonplussed, and she coldly walks through the throngs who separate before, even the wounded ceasing their moans as they lay eyes upon her.

“Where is she?” Diana asks, drawing a slow response from a healer. The woman points towards a tent on the far end, knowing exactly what the goddess would want and why she would be here.

Without another word Diana moves forward, her boots making indents in the wet sand. Just then the screeching of artillery shells boom up and down the beach, sending many scurrying for cover. Diana remains aloof and continues on towards her destination, ignoring the flying sand and shrapnel. 

She is quickly at the tents entrance, and she jerks it open angrily to find a woman cowering on her bedding. The Amazon was heavily bandaged, but unable to move due to the wound she had suffered to her knee.    
  
“What is your name?” Diana asks, moving onto her knee, looking deeply into the woman’s fearful eyes. “N..Nefeli my queen” the warrior stutters. It was clearly unimportant to the woman who moves along, not addressing her by the name just given to her.

“You saw the Batman and faced him in combat. Is this correct?”

The woman nods, deciding to spare her own life by being as open and up front with silently fuming goddess as she could. She couldn’t help but be more afraid of the woman, whose hand was placed on the sword hilt at her waist, than the artillery which continues to boom outside. 

“You were defeated” Diana says, not needing to ask that question. “That was predictable and expected. You did well sister” she says, not meaning the congratulatory tone at all. “Thank you my queen” Nefeli says, knowing why she had been placed apart from the other wounded and left alone.

“Did he say anything?” Diana asks.

“Yes. He said that I was to be his messenger” she says, taking solace that she wouldn’t die from the woman’s neutral expression. “And what was his message than dear Hermes?” she teases, setting the woman at ease. “He said that I would know what to tell you, but my queen...I don’t know what he wishes to communicate to you” Nefeli admits.

Diana holds up a hand, ceasing the woman’s words. “No. The less he says, the more he communicates. You have done well” she says, standing and exiting the tent without another word. Nefeli is completely shocked but lets a sigh of relief forth, happy to escape with her life. It was then that she hears a whistle, coming closer and closer and turning more into a whine. It takes her a second to realize what it was, but a second was all she had and before she could open her mouth to scream the shell lands directly on the tent, incinerating the woman instantly and leaving nothing left of her but a thin layer of sludge against the sand.

Diana didn’t notice, nor care as her back had been turned towards the tent. Shrapnel flew past her, shredding other tents and further killing or wounding more of her sisters. She didn’t care. She was too giddy to care that she didn’t have the numbers to replace these losses. Soon it wouldn’t matter.    
  


‘We were never meant to win here’ she reminds herself, seeing the sacrifice of her soldiers as a worthy trade off for the ultimate achievement of luring the Batman out into the open. 

‘It is all falling together quite nicely’


	4. Chapter 4

**_Private Quarters of Queen Mera, Last Hope Base_ **

She had been utterly exhausted by the events of the past week. Hours upon hours were spent on briefings and strategy meetings, all the while she just wanted to be with her son. She’d known that she would be needed, but she didn’t realize how much that would actually entail. Her sleep was restless either way, her mind fixated on the near constant nightmare she had off Arthur killing her son. Their own baby boy.

She hated that the evil in the hearts of man could be so pervasive. In a way, she knew her husband was worse than Diana. The woman had been driven by grief, corrupted and forced onto a dark path. Arthur sought to profit off of turning onto that same path. They were worlds apart in motivation.

She doesn’t notice that baby Arthur was awake, and quietly fiddling with the lock on his crib. He was smarter than many children and knew just how to work it. When the latch comes undone the side bar falls, allowing him to waddle forward and fall out of the crib. Luckily he lands on his feet, and the dirt floor didn’t prove to be a painful landing. In fact he giggles, loving how the soil feels. He clasps his hands, digging some up before taking it to his mouth. He’d never felt dirt before, only sand. 

He puts some in his mouth, as was natural for babies to do before spitting it out, not liking the taste at all. He slowly wobbles onto his legs, shakily moving out of the room. He didn’t know where he was going, but he didn’t want to stay there. He loved his mother, but he was getting tired of just seeing her and Neriva. He would giggle and clap from his crib, trying to draw out any of the voices he’d heard in the corridor but nobody would come in to see him. 

Well, he was going to go see them then, if they liked it or not.

**_Last Hope Armory and Workshop_ **

Bruce was working at a table, sorting out what was left of his utility belt. “Mmm, need more smoke grenades” he says to himself, having been using them to massive effect the past week. Nothing disorientated an Amazon quite like not being able to see her target.

The armory was empty, just the way he liked it. Everyone knew who he was but he didn’t like mixing his status as Batman with his public persona of Bruce Wayne. None of it mattered to him anymore. The secrecy had only been to protect those he loved. Now? They were all gone.

He puts down the batarang he had been studying before placing his head in his hands. He can’t help the tears that begin to leak out of his eyes, or the silent sobs that wrack his body. Today was the hardest day of the year for him.

“Happy birthday Tommy” he says, wondering what his son would’ve gotten for his birthday. He would’ve been well into the action figure phase, so most likely G.I. Joes and transformers. Diana would’ve helped Alfred bake a cake, chocolate as always, while Bruce would’ve been hanging decorations. That was then, but now? He couldn’t even go to Tommy’s grave to say that he loved him still, and that he wasn’t forgotten.

Wayne Manor was being guarded by a massive influx of Amazons that even he knew it would be suicidal to take on. If he wasn’t being counted on so strenuously, he would’ve gone and died on his son’s grave, just to say goodbye.

But, his war was slowly coming into its final phase. He was searching for Diana, though he couldn’t get a fix on her. His message had come in loud and clear, or so he had thought, but the goddess of war did not rise to meet his challenge as he had expected. Instead she sent her Amazons out to harass their forces. 

He sent them back broken and in pain.

He knew it wasn’t fear. Diana wasn’t afraid, and she probably even welcomed such a showdown. No. It must’ve been something else. Something to do with the arrival of Aquaman and what he had found in the Artic seas.   
  
Aquaman was a problem that would need to be solved and soon. 

He would find out what that bastard was doing here and then he would end him. He knew he would kill him. His moral code was long gone, and he knew that all the reasons he had for keeping it were too. He didn’t expect to stay around long after Arthur was dead anyway. He wouldn’t keep killing. He hoped to die.

His thoughts are turned away from the darkness as something pulls on his leg, and he wonders for a moment if another rat had gotten into the armory. He looks down and is shocked at what he sees. It was Arthur Jr. He knew instantly because of the fact that the little boy was the spitting image of his enemy and former colleague. 

Arthur Jr looked up at him, his hands being lifted by his arms as they open and close, signalling his desire for the man to pick him up. Bruce wants to send the boy back to Mera’s room, knowing that he’d escaped from his crib. But he couldn’t be cruel to the little trusting boy. Especially with the dirt smeared fingers and mouth.

An image flashes in Bruce’s mind. The past. Tommy’s third birthday. Diana had put the birthday cake right in front of the little boy as Bruce held him, and Tommy, being excited, dug in with his hands. It had been a hilarious sight, his chocolate smeared cheeks and mouth as he looked up quizzically at the half chastising, half hysterically laughing adults. Alfred had been mortified but Bruce and Diana had just explained to him by saying “no” quietly and cutting the cake. Tommy was always so quick to learn and seemed to know innately when he had done wrong. 

He got that from his mother.

Without thinking Bruce reaches down and grasps the little boy by his waist, bringing him up into his lap. “Hello” he says unevenly, unsure of what to do but feeling a need and desire to be near the child. “What are you doing out of bed?” he asks, knowing that Arthur was much too young to answer. He was shocked that such a young baby was even able to move around like he had. ‘Atlanteans’ he thinks to himself, making sense of how different the ocean dwellers were from them.

“How did you get so dirty?” he asks, the dusty paternal instinct instantly awakening within him as he reaches for the wipes he had been using to clean his tools. The boy instantly presents his hands, allowing the strange man to clean him off. “Your mother is going to be peeved that you got out as it is” he says with a smile, unable to resist running his hand through the boy’s golden locks. “Better make it easier for you and clean you up” he says, moving on to his face. He squirms here, not liking how the chemical infused fabric feels against his skin.

“Sorry Arthur, just the way it is” he says chuckling. “Shouldn’t have tried to eat dirt”. He knew instantly how the dirt had gotten on the boy’s face. “Diana would’ve been snapping pictures already” he says, feeling the sadness come back within him at the memory of how much of a shutterbug his wife had been. He had photo albums filled with pictures of their family and friends.

At the time he’d warned Diana that she was spending too much time trying to capture life and not enough living it. Now? He was beyond thankful that those memories were there for him to lose himself in from time to time.

Arthur begins to babble, making little noises this way and that as if he was trying to speak but couldn’t exactly get the words out. “I’m guess you’re either hungry or want your mother” he says, watching the little boy’s eyes light up at the mention of his mother. He bobs his head and makes more unintelligible gibberish, causing Bruce to laugh once again. 

“Alright, let’s go find her” he says, making to get up until he hears a scuffle in the hallway. Two shadows come into view across the door. “Hello?” shouts the hysterical voice of Queen Mera through the door. “Bruce? Are you in there? Arthur is missing…” she begins, walking into the room and seeing Bruce holding the missing little boy. She breathes a sigh of relief as she sees the two and let’s out a little chuckle to herself.

“My Queen!” Neriva shouts, moving into the room. “Has anyone...ohh” she says, skidding to a stop at seeing the now nervous looking blonde boy. He begins to suck his thumb, a sure sign that he thought he was in trouble, and look away. Bruce just looks at the two breathless women, trying to remain neutral but unable to stop the smirk that breaks out on his face. “He found me, not the other way around” he says, standing up to bring the little boy over to his blonde nursemaid. 

Mera just smiles, her hand over her heart as she calms down, not having been able to stomach the thought of losing her soon at all. The strangest thing happens when Bruce tries to give the little boy back. He wraps his arms about the man’s neck and refuses to budge, drawing a confused look from Neriva. 

“Arthur” she says, a little scoldingly but not harshly. “Nnuhh” the little boy responds, nuzzling even deeper into Bruce’s neck. Bruce looks helpless, not knowing what to do but still somehow getting a general inkling from the little boy’s yawn. He smiles and begins patting his back, looking at the two women. “I think his little adventure wore him out” he says simply. Even though he hadn’t traveled far, only a few feet from his mother’s room, it was a lot for a boy his age. 

“How about I just carry him to bed Neriva” he half asks, half says to the woman. He couldn’t admit it out loud, hating the selfish feelings that were bubbling up within him with their attendant heartache, but he loved feeling Arthur’s little heartbeat against his chest and the light breaths that impact against his neck. Nireva makes to interject but she is stopped by a hand on her shoulder. She turns to see Mera, staring at the two with a smile on her face and watery eyes.

“It’s alright Nireva” she says, looking away with a blush. “Bruce won’t hurt Arthur” she says with a smile. Something about the way she said it caused Nireva to instinctively trust her Queen on this matter, and even if she didn’t exactly like it, she allowed it to go on. Bruce doesn’t seem to notice the looks that Mera was giving him, being focused only on the little boy was becoming a quick surrogate for his own son, if only for a little while.

‘A few minutes’ he thinks, desperately trying to fight the guilt that wells up within him, the rational part of his brain warning him of the danger he was placing himself in by getting attached, urging him to isolate and cut off. ‘Just for a few minutes let me feel alive again’ he pleads to whatever entity would listen. Arthur yawns, his little mouth opening and closing as his hands, cute little hands with tiny fingers, clench and unclench on the fabric of Bruce’s shirt. 

He feels those deep and dark thoughts drift away, focusing only on the little boy in his arms while he moves out into the hallway, towards Mera’s room. The redhead follows him without a word, not able to place how happy she was. Arthur was desperate for company, and she knew that it wasn’t healthy to keep that only to her and Neriva. She was so petrified of someone hurting him, and especially of men.

‘His own father wanted to kill him’ she thinks sorrowfully, reminding herself of how many soldiers had also supported his death either through explicit attempts or through implicit support of the king. She couldn’t trust anyone, but she knew in her heart that she could trust Bruce with the little boy. 

He turns into the room, looking around for the crib and seeing it on the opposite side. He walks towards it and with one hand cradling Arthur uses his free hand to replace the side of the crib and reclasp it. The little infant prison now secured once more, he leans over the bars to put the little boy back in. He chuckles as Arthur kicks at him in his sleep, his little feet protesting for the comfortably slumbering baby. His hands slip from Bruce slowly, though the man doesn’t let go until his back was flush against the bed. He pulls the blanket up over the baby, and reaches out for the stuffed orca whale some soldier had brought back to the prince following a recon patrol through a toy store.

“It was nice talking with you Arty” Bruce whispers, not wanting to call the little boy by his father’s name any longer. ‘A bastard like Arthur making someone like this’ he thinks to himself, shocked. He turns to find Mera and Neriva watching, smirks on the blonde’s face but a thankful smile on Mera’s. He nods, making to move out of the room before Mera places a hand on his shoulder. “Wait, please just wait a second Bruce” she says, the pleading in her eyes causing the man to agree. “I’ll wait outside then” he says, the redheaded queen nodding before moving back over to the crib. She smiles down at Arthur and leans in, kissing his cheek. “Stay here my little urchin” she teases, stroking his hair and causing the feelings that had welled up within her to come to Bruce.

His thoughts drift to Diana, and how she would kiss and cuddle their son. ‘Her little joy’ he says, remembering what she would call him. His thoughts are interrupted by Mera, who exits the room and closes the door behind her, leaving Neriva on watch duty. 

“Bruce..” she says, somewhat nervously. “Can I speak with you?”

He’s taken aback but doesn’t want to say no to the woman, so he agrees. “Of course” he says evenly as she gestures down the hall. “I’m sure that the cooks left some food out for Harley and the Crazies” she smirks. “We could always get something to eat. I’m famished and haven’t eaten all day” she says, still wearing her green flowing nightgown. It seemed as if it was made from silk, though he undoubtedly knew that it was something from under the sea. ‘Probably sea silk’ he thinks.

“Did Waller really talk to you that long?” he asks.

“Everyday and for houuuuuurssss” she groans, causing the man to smirk. “Bruce, that woman knows everything I do about the Atlantean art of war. If she can’t win this war now, it’ll never be won” she says. Bruce just nods, knowing that to be the truth. “Odds are, if this war is to be won at all it’ll be won by Harley Quinn and not Amanda Waller”.

“The fate of the free world coming down to Harley Quinn, Deadshot and a few random soldiers” she chuckles sarcastically. “What a far cry from the days of the Justice League” she adds sadly. Bruce agrees and lets out a quiet grunt to say so, not wanting to go over how many were gone in his mind.

‘Even zee’ he thinks, remembering how he felt at seeing his former lover’s head on a pike. She had betrayed him, the League and the world, but still he would mourn her loss.

“What are they up too tonight anyway? Any special objectives?” she asks.

“Just their usual mischief”.

**_GCPD, Downtown Gotham_ **

The Amazonian column was marching along quickly, though not quickly enough. The rubble stopped them every few feet and at night time it became almost impossible for them to see where they were going. Their torches provided them only a limited amount of light and sometimes were even more of a detriment to them than a help. 

Too many torches and they would give their position away, negating the benefits of moving at night. Too little and they couldn’t see. Atlantean artillery pieces were also moving along, perched as they were on the backs of giant crabs. They couldn’t go far from the ocean, needing water to live, but here they were, moving progressively inland.   
  
Harley smiles to herself, watching through the binoculars and loudly chewing on some gum, her mind focused on how to best proceed. “Soooo….what’s the plan?” Floyd asks from beside her, polishing his rifle yet again. She was amazed that he could do that without light, but she could see from the night vision scope on her binoculars that the rifle was squeaky clean. ‘Touches and plays with that damn thing more than he does me’ she thinks, wondering if she was the only woman in the world who had to share her man with a gun.

‘Nahhh’ she thinks, knowing how certain men were with their firearms. “Wellll….” she begins, indeed having to come up with a plan. “We can’t do anything about the ones who already got by, but I see one of those crabby guns coming up, so if we take him out, block the road then none a’those other bitches can get by” she says, mentally patting herself on the back for a plan well thought of. 

“It will take them alllllll night to clear the way, and in the morning our big guns can fuck up their breakfast!” she says excitedly, jumping up and twirling on the roof of the former police precinct. Lawton reaches up and pulls her down, not wanting to see an arrow land right through her eye socket if she was spotted. “Yeah good plan. We plaster the shit out of this are then get out” he says, indeed wanting to head back to base. 

Harley nods, turning back towards one of the soldiers behind them. “Sweetie! Get mommy’s bazooka!” she says, causing Deadshot to roll his eyes as Clarkson rushes up with the stinger. “It’s a Stinger missile, and it’s better used on aircraft Harley” he explains, not exactly liking the fact that non-matching ordnance is being used on the Atlantean forces. 

“Ohhh sowwwy” she teases. “Did I use the wrong boom boom stick? Get over yourself Floyd. We can kill the thing just the same” she says, pointing the different looking missile at the Atlantean cannon. “Harley...what did you do to that Stinger?” he asks nervously, looking at all the modifications that had been done to the tube and the targeting system.

“Ahh I was just playing around with it” she says. “I added a little pizazz!” she says, her hand going to the trigger. “Wait, what? Harley!” he shouts, wanting to stop the woman as he knows what usually happens when Harley rigs something up.

“FIRE IN THE HOLE!!” she shouts, standing up to fire the weapon and exposing herself to enemy fire all at the same time. The Amazons and the Atlanteans don’t have time to react either way, and before they could even turn their spears or pulse rifles Harley had fired. 

The missile rockets out of the front of the tube, the backdraft knocking out a soldier behind them while Harley herself is sent backwards onto her rear end. “Ooof” she lets out, having injured her butt in the fall. “Owww” she says, rubbing her side, the discarded launcher now beside her. 

“Dammit” he says, rushing forward to help his fallen lover. “You alright?” he asks. Harley doesn’t say anything, just frowning and pointing towards her rear end. “Oucchie” she says, causing the man to nod and smile, looking out over the side of the building at the chaos that Harley’s missile had wrought. “I’ll kiss it better later” he says, drawing a flirtatious smile from the woman. “But we gotta get out of here now” he finishes.

“Did we get them?” she asks.

“Ohh yeah Harls. You got them” he says, a wide smirk on his face at the destruction the woman had brought down on the alliance forces. The crab cannon was nothing more than a hulking, flaming wreck, it’s legs have been ripped off and scattered about the street. Blood and guts were everywhere as well, mixing in with the burning bodies of Atlanteans and Amazons.

Some were still alive, the survivors desperately trying to put out the fire and save their comrades. Usually it didn’t work, the plasma fuel of the cannon sticking to everything like napalm. 

The street was blocked, and the alliance was cut off from reinforcements. In the morning, there would be even more hell to pay when the artillery could pinpoint their bottleneck forces and further damage them. 

All in all, the alliance’s offensive thrust was stopped...for now.   
  
Both the streets on the opposite side were completely blocked off by debris, and any cleanup crews would by harried by American air power or by the bands of irregular troops that seemed to dog them at every turn.

“Come on boys, we did a good job for the night!” Harley calls back, not afraid of giving away their position due to the incessant noise of the dying and the wounded.

“Let’s just hope that they feel that for a while” Deadshot says, holding Harley against his side. “Ohh they will Floyd. They will” she says, glaring over her shoulder as they pick their way through the path they’d made through the debris. She had a sadistic smile on her face, loving the knowledge that many Amazons were suffering because of her. “That was for Ivy you bitches” she says to herself, the shadows of her platoon dying away as they advance further and further away from the light of the plasma induced flames. 

**_Amazon Base Camp_ **

He could tell from the shear number of wounded that the attack hadn’t gone well, and not all of the dead were Amazons. The issues facing any wounded Atlanteans were purely logistical, their forces having advanced too far from the water for their medical forces to provide any real assistance. 

‘Damned lowborn’ he thinks to himself, watching as their bodies are stacked and covered for transportation back to Atlantis. ‘If they were strong they’d be able to breathe above land to’ he silently fumes, his two guards looking at him with fear. His moods had become quite volatile, and not even his own men could escape his wrath.

He marches forward, admiring the Amazons around him as he looks for the main tent, Diana’s command center. ‘If only I had warriors like them’ he thinks further, not caring for the soldiers who had won him control of the seas but had failed to advance even a few miles inland. He blamed them for Diana’s lack of advance, and already three generals had been executed and replaced. His mind whispered that he was making a mistake, that being so brazen in his disdain for his own people would lead to his downfall, but he pushed on and ignored that voice which suspiciously sounded like his former wife.

“My king, the tent is right there” one of his guards points out, unable to hide his trepidation at speaking directly to the Atleantean king. The blonde man ignores him, and advances upon the tent, hearing a suspicious noise of steel banging against steel. He enters the tent, not bothering to announce himself, and is instantly aroused by what he sees. 

Diana was standing before a makeshift forge, the coals burning bright in the bottom of the well as she pushes a steel plate back into the fire. She was working on bending it, and if the number of other bent plates were anything to go on, she was constructing armor. That wasn’t the arousing aspect to him. What was arousing was seeing Diana so under dressed. She wore only a mid thigh length stola which fell off of her shoulder and showed the barest hint of her large and firm breast whenever she lifted her arm. Her pert ass cheeks were exposed to him as she bent down to grasp something, and he lecherously enjoys the show that the unknowing woman is giving.

He turns to his soldiers, wordlessly sending them from the room, an order they instantly receive and happily comply with. 

The woman didn’t hear, or at least he thought she hadn’t heard, and goes back to hammering away at the steel plate which was now red hot once more. “Diana” he says, moving forward to reveal himself, not realizing in his hubris how she tightens rigidly at his words. “Arthur, a surprise to see you here” she says, joy painted on her face. 

The man advances on her, his arms going around her waist as he pulls her sweaty body to his. “A surprise?” he asks mirthfully. “Then you don’t have good spies. I’ve been here a while” he says. “Ahh, so you were on your flagship” she says, a teasing smirk that hides the malice and hatred in her eyes. “Yes...I was” he says, bringing his hand up to her face and rubbing her cheek with his thumb.

It takes all she has within her to not throw him to the ground and thrust a sword through his neck, but somehow she manages. ‘You still need him’ she angrily admits within the confines of her own mind. “Not until the wedding Arthur” she says, moving easily from his grasp, causing the man to frown at her feigned coquettishness. “Then let us marry and seal the alliance between Atlantis and Themyscira” he says, his trident now leaning against the wall.

Diana ignores him, moving back to the fire and continuing to hammer away at the steel. Arthur sighs, knowing he would get nowhere with arguing. ‘Just like every time before’ he thinks, suddenly curious as to what she is doing.

“Why is the goddess of war forging?” he asks, hoping to contain his rage within him. She ignores him for a second, bringing up a piece of steel to inspect before bringing it back down. “I am forging armor worthy of a god” she says, bringing the hammer down once more. “A god who will stand with me as husband atop Olympus” she says, a smile coming to her face, if only slightly. Arthur construes it as being due to him and calms himself in the belief that she wanted him as well.

“Hmm, and a fine piece of armor it is” he says, admiring the few already assembled and forged pieces to the side. ‘They must be for you’ he thinks, sizing them up and realizing that they’d fit him. “Indeed” she responds, placing one of the pieces in the clench tank she’d made, watching it sizzle and cool rapidly, the smoke filling her tent. 

“Our forces were stopped last night” she says, causing the man to arch an eyebrow. “How?”

“A rocket was fired into one of your mobile artillery pieces” she explains. “No doubt Harley Quinn and her band of rejects”. Arthur begins to fume, not knowing that he’d be faced with such an embarrassment upon first meeting Diana in Gotham. He’d spent many days moving up and down the coast, looking for alternative landing zones that would assist in the envelopment of Gotham. 

It had been impossible.

The navy was still prepared and strong there, and the defences had been so well constructed that he didn’t want to risk a landing with how many lives it would take to force their way through, only to wind up in another bottleneck behind the defensive lines. Land operations really were a problem for the Atlanteans, and the Amazons had not a single warrior to spare on yet another front.

It was Gotham or nothing.

“She will have to be dealt with sooner rather than later” he says fiercely, indeed wanting to slaughter the woman for posing such a problem. “How many dead?” he asks disinterestedly. “Forty Amazons and thirty seven Atlanteans” she says, raddling off the number before moving on to heat another piece of steel.

“When will we marry?” he asks, changing the topic tactlessly. “When your wife lies dead and our forces victorious” she says harshly, not wanting to have this conversation with the man at this point. “Then it shall be done soon” he says, tightly, feeling angry at the woman’s avoidance of him. 

“Bruce has reappeared” she says, communicating the news in the most blase way possible. “Ohh? Good. Then he will die as soon as he shows his face again” Arthur says, noticing how the woman stiffens. His glare becomes even more pointed, now liking how the woman seems to still be so focused on her former lover and husband. 

He steps forward and grabs the woman by the chin, stopping the Amazon’s avoidance of him and glaring into her eyes. He sees her move for a sword, and he knows that she would slip it into his stomach, but not before he would snap her neck. It was indicative of their entire relationship, one having the power to destroy the other at all times, but not being able to. For Arthur, he lusted too much for her to destroy her. For Diana? She needed the Atlanteans to accomplish her goals. 

“You still love him” he says, not needing to ask the question as he already knew the answer. Diana looks upon him defiantly, her eyes taking on the hardness of steel. With a grunt of anger her pushes her away, advancing back towards the exit of the tent. “I will find him, a deliver his head to you as an engagement present Diana” he says, desire for possession in his voice. “I swear it” he says, exiting the tent with a flourish, undoubtedly ready to go on his own personal crusade to kill the dark knight.

Diana watches the Atlantean king’s exit for a moment before letting out a giant exhale of breath. ‘When it comes time for you to die Arthur, I will make it excruciating’ she thinks, moving back to her forge and leaning against the stone for a moment. The warmth comforts her and brings her a sense of peace. 

“He won’t defeat you” she says aloud, knowing that she was still only speaking to herself. “You are too smart, too strong and too fast”. She smiles to herself and continues her dialogue with herself. “With all of your nobility, and all of his evil, who decided that he was to be a king and you were not?”. Her voice spits the words balefully, her hatred for the Moirai growing. She summons an image of the three sisters to her mind. “They sit at their wheel, spinning fate. They give us happiness and then they take it away” she shouts, slamming her fist down on the stone and causing some of it to crumble.

She sighs, stopping for a moment and collecting herself. “They took your parents from you. And then they gave us to one another, only to take our son” she says, unable to stop the tears that run freely down her face. She reaches down to the side, picking up one of the pieces of armor she had forged first. 

She stares intently into the openings of the helmet, imagining she was staring into someone’s eyes. The helmet was dark, having been forged to be so. On its sides were two protruding wings.   
  
Bat wings.

“I will have you again Bruce” she says, rubbing her thumb across the cheek. “I will have you and together we will plunge into the underworld to pluck our son from the river Styx” she says, imagining how such an act would go, how it would feel to have her little boy in her arms once more. 

“We will slay Hades, and you will take your seat upon his throne” she says. “And with the world above razed to the ground, and not a single soul left to stand against us, I will join you there, your queen”. 

“Thomas will be forever safe, and forever young. His parents will always be there to love him and protect him, and the world will never be able to hurt anyone like it hurt us. War and death will finally be just, with us at their head”.

She places the helmet back down and begins to work on the breastplate. She had fully formed it at this point, and was merely working on the ornamental aspects of it. She picks up her tools, eager to finish the symbol she had been ingraining on the surface of the steel.

It was a bat.

**_Last Hope Base_ **

“Thank you Bruce” she says from across the table, drinking from her mug of coffee.

“For what?”

Mera smiles up at him, a teasing look in her eyes. “You know exactly what. For being so kind to Arthur” she says with a laugh, suddenly growing serious and sad. “It has been so long since a father figure has shown him such kindness” she admits. “I will never understand that”.

“Understand what?” she asks, taking her turn at asking that question. “How Arthur could stop loving his son” he says. “How he could see his child as replaceable. How he can even think about trying to kill him”.

“Arthur grew cold” Mera says, beginning to fiddle with her cup. She looks away before looking back towards Bruce. “Over the years, I saw it happen, and I didn’t know what to do about it. He started to become more and more like the highborn Atlanteans who sought to keep the throne from him. Maybe he just took that line because of their shared hatred of the surface world? I don’t know” she says, throwing her hands up. 

“But soon enough, they became indistinguishable” she says. “Arthur dismissed everyone who he had trusted before. He told me that he wanted to “win the hearts of the people of Atlantis”, though the people are the ones who suffered the most from his reforms”.

“They almost always are” Bruce says, though he adds nothing else to allow Mera to continue.

“I guess some things are the same if they are above or below water” she says with a smile, which instantly drops away. “He wanted to get rid of all non Atlantean influences. That’s when he severed the diplomatic ties between the surface world and Atlantis, after Darkseid’s invasion. After...well, just after everything that happened. He left the League as well, not that there was much of a league left”.

She sighs before continuing. “Eventually, the anti Atlantean sentiment came to include me”. She casts her eyes down before looking up at Bruce. “I was from Xebel, not Atlantis. In fact, many had always been against me being Queen but they were silenced by Arthur’s supporters. That died away as soon as he lost his support and not many were willing to risk their lives by speaking out for me. So, Arthur began to let slip that he was hoping to “strengthen” the lines of succession for Atlantis, and that was code for divorcing me and finding a true high born Atlantean wife. This was his plan before Diana became the most powerful woman on Earth” she spits disdainfully.

“It’s funny how much people will bend their beliefs if they stand to gain from it” she says. “With Diana’s power the high born were convinced that a marriage between her and Arthur would benefit Atlantis, and eventually they didn’t even care about the fact that she was a surface dweller. Some “scientists” even came up with theories that linked the lineage of the Amazons and Atlanteans. Complete crap but, well people want to believe what they want to believe”.

Bruce can’t help but smirk at that, knowing just the lengths that people would go to to convince themselves of something. In fact, he could consider himself the expert on that with how long he’d dealt with the likes of the Joker or Harley Quinn.

“So, with me no longer the favorite, it became clear that Arthur Jr. was now inconvenient” she shakes her head, not being able to understand how such a beautiful child could be considered inconvenient. “I was highborn, but not Atlantis. So there was now a “defect” in my child for no other reason than the fact that his mother was no longer wanted by his father”.

He sees the tears leaking out of Mera’s eyes and he can’t help but reach forward to grasp her hand, squeezing it comfortingly. Mera latches onto this show of affection like it was a life preserver to a drowning woman. In many ways, maybe it was.

“So, now you know everything. Arthur grew cold and power hungry, and now despises his wife and child for existing. Maybe we should’ve just disappeared and ceased to exist for his goals”.

“He is a fool Mera” Bruce says, drawing a strange look from the woman. “You’re a beautiful, brave and strong woman who bore him a son, one of the most precious things a man can ever have. Trust me, I know” he says, allowing Mera to comfort him this time.

“I am so sorry Bruce” 

The man just nods, sighing to himself before smiling, though it didn’t reach his eyes. As usual it was a reserved and patented Bruce Wayne smile, though she was happy to receive even this. “I had to come to a conclusion in order to survive” he admits. This draws Mera’s interest and he goes on to sate her curiosity. “I lived a lot of my life in the past. But when I lost Tommy and Diana….and Alfred and Dick…..I had to do something. It was too much. Too heavy to keep going on” he says. “So I had to box it up and leave it in the back of my mind. Otherwise it would’ve consumed me and I wouldn’t have been any help to anybody”.

He has her rapt attention, and he intends to keep it.

“So, that’s why I hung up the cowl. I thought it would be easier to keep it together, at least until I wasn’t needed anymore. Then again, Diana told everyone who I was so there was less point in it overall”

He becomes silent, looking down at the table with a blank expression. Mera gets up and moves to his side, placing her arm around his shoulder as it dawns on her what the man was trying to say.

“Bruce...just because you put on the cowl doesn’t change the man you are” she says. “You’re a good man, with friends who you need to work on letting in. I’ve seen this for years but, well, losing a son is worse than losing your parents so now is the time to tell you” she smiles, placing her hand on the side of his face, eager for more contact between the two. 

“You’re stronger than anyone has a right to be, and it’s disgusting how much we need you but that’s the truth. We do need you. We need you to help us make a world that Tommy would’ve been proud of, that the woman Diana once was would’ve been proud of”.

They were both looking at each other, the weight of their own sorrow and fears crushing in on them from all sides. Before either knew it, they had leaned in towards each other, pressing their lips together. Her arm wraps tightly around his shoulders, pulling together even tighter while Bruce wraps his about her waist. She leans in eagerly against him, the two heroes desperate for contact with one another. 

“Ohh, we interrupting something Batsy?” comes an annoyingly familiar voice which causes the two to separate quickly, the redhead sporting a hue equal to her hair color on her face as Harley Quinn crosses her arms under her chest and teasingly looks at the two. Her platoon was behind her, all torn tattered and dirty from their raid that night. Deadshot was besides their erstwhile leader, sporting a smirk of his own while he quietly flips a thumbs up.

“Excuse me Bruce” Mera says, standing up and rushing out of the room. Harley begins to laugh at Bruce’s stoic expression, his attempt at hiding his embarrassment and anger.

“Ohh woweee! If I didn’t know better I’d say that the Flash passed on the speed force to Queenie” she says, chuckling loudly to herself. She is joined by her band of soldiers who all cackle behind her as if they were hyenas. Without another word Bruce gets up and leaves, going back to the armory to prep his tools for yet another night raid.   
  


He pushed down the confusion he felt about the Queen and their kiss, not knowing what to do. ‘Heat of the moment’ he thinks to himself as he moves through the corridors. ‘Nothing more’.

**_Atlantean Base Camp, Gotham Coast_ **

Arthur moved along the ranks of his assembled shock troops, grim determination on his face as he readies them for debriefing, hoping that the assault they would soon commence would be the one that ended the war.

Things were not going well in Atlantis either. Orm had begged him to return, a insurgency having broken out amongst the lower classes of Atlanteans. They’d refused to cultivate the seaweed that the city relied on, nor to continue harvesting the requisite food for the armed forces. Now, they needed to act quickly. 

“We must first end this war, then we will return to Atlantis” he says. “I know that’s all you want right?” he asks a little disdainfully. “To return to your homes, forget glory and honor correct? No all you want is comfort and peace” he says, walking up and down the line of troops. “Well, I will make you work for it” he says. He places the rear end shaft of his trident into the sand. 

“I too want peace and comfort” he says. “But as your king, normal comfort will not be enough. If I am to be comfortable, Atlantis must stand master of the seven seas, and I must have a queen” he says. Many soldiers within this unit didn’t appreciate the sentiment, though nobody dared give voice to it. 

  
One soldier however, was fuming.

Corporal Hilke was beyond angry. ‘You already had a queen you traitorous bastard’ she thinks to herself, grasping her pulse rifle tightly to her chest. She knew that the time was now, and she had to act. She waits until the tall blonde man passes by her, his mind fixated on his “rousing” speech.

  
She watches as he pays no mind to her, fixated on only his own desires.

“Death to the traitor! Long live Queen Mera!” she shouts, stepping forward and raising her pulse rifle to blast the man in the back. The king has time to turn, but nothing else. He didn’t have his trident, and he was too far away from the woman to prevent her from killing him. 

His eyes widen in fear, an emotion he hadn’t known for a long time as his other troops openly hesitate.

Hilke makes to pull the trigger, no hesitation at this point. She was convinced of her cause and ready to give her life or take another’s for it.

Something impacts against her however, and the entire side of her helmeted head caves in, blood gushing out onto the sand. The woman stumbles, not noticing at first that half of her skull was gone. Soon though, her body realizes, and her rifle drops as she falls into the sand. 

Blood begins to pour out, the startled soldiers looking up at the woman hovering in the air, her wings flapping to keep her suspended. “Diana sent us” Hawkgirl says, her mace bloody and her face expressionless.

Arthur frowns at the woman, not caring for being saved. The woman lowers herself onto the sand, her mind elsewhere as she looks down at the dead soldier. ‘Brave’ she thinks. ‘Brave and foolish, but still a better woman than any of us’ she thinks, looking back at Vixen and the other Amazons.

“I didn’t need help” he says.

“Sure looked like it” Shayera retorts angrily, having nothing but disdain for the man before her. “Hmm” he says simply, not looking for an argument. He was shaken by the fact that treachery was running even through the ranks of his most “loyal” soldiers. 

“We’re here to give you an intelligence report on what’s going on over in those buildings it looks like you’re going to send your men through” she says. “Nothing but abandoned concrete” he sniffs disparagingly. “Not exactly. There are soldiers in there. And not just any soldiers, but militia” she says. “Ahh then the shattered remnants of Gotham’s population. They will crumble under the weight of our assault”.

Shayera holsters her mace once again, glaring at the man. “That’s what Thera thought” she says, causing a confused look to cross the king’s face. “Who is Thera?”

“One of Diana’s most trusted lieutenants” Vixen says, stepping forward. “Well, she WAS” the black woman says, emphasizing the past tense of the world. She points back towards the buildings with a dismissive wave. “Shayera also isn’t telling you the full truth. It isn’t just militia” she says. “We think there’s something more in there. We have reports that a creature waits in the sewers below. We haven’t seen it. All we see is the remnants of our sisters, half eaten and torn apart” Shayera adds, casting a glance at Vixen’s usurpation of her command.

‘If It were up to me we would’ve let them go in without knowing shit’ she thinks, glad at the thought of the arrogant Atlantean man being ripped apart. 

“Thera came out with a wide smile on her face. Her and her entire phalanx were the same way. They died laughing. Who do you think is in those ruins?” Shayera asks the man, a smirk on her lips. The Joker hadn’t been seen in years, and his continued existence had become something of a ghost story. 

“So at night, the militia isn’t in there, but something else is” she says, clearing the situation up for the Atlantean. 

He looks towards the ruins, an unsure expression on his face. “Are you sure you want to face him, if he’s still alive, in there? He’s undoubtedly had time to prepare. All your troops would fall pretty quickly” she says, causing the man to stop. “You’re not going to join our assault?” he asks.

“Not at night. Nope” she retorts, her hands on her waist as the man looks over the ruins. He couldn’t help the fear that moved up his spine, having gotten soft in not having had to fight many of the League’s former enemies in so long.

He thought he heard a laugh echo down the beach, but he quickly chalked it up to the wind and the sea. “Alright” he calls out, turning back to his equally frightened men. “We are going to be calling off the attack for the night. We will resume in the morning” he says, gesturing for them to return to their undersea camp. 

Shayera watches their retreat, knowing that he would say nothing more to a lowly lieutenant in Diana’s army. They leave the woman on the beach, not even bothering to take her corpse with them for burial. Shayera takes that responsibility on herself and hoists the woman she’d killed onto her shoulders. “Alright, return to camp. I’ll bury her” she says, her soldiers following her orders instantly and moving down the beach. 

‘I miss you Carter’ she thinks, a tear moving out of her mask.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Last Hope Base, Atlantean Quarters_ **

“Very good Maria” Nireva says, shouting encouragement as the dark haired girl kicked along the shore, moving her through the water with ease. “Pretty soon you wont need the….what do you call them? Floaties?” the blond asks, her tongue stumbling over the word. 

“Yeah” Maria chuckles, kicking her legs out and moving a little closer to the woman. “We have no such things in Atlantis” she says. “Well duh” Maria says, rolling her eyes the same way her mother did. “You guys naturally swim”.

“True, true” Nireva says, taking the teasing good naturedly.

Vic was sitting on the sand, watching the duo play about in the makeshift ocean they’d made by flooding even more of the lower levels. Nobody used them anyway, so it didn’t matter too much that they’d let seawater in. He had been out for most of the night, participating in a recon mission along the barbed wire above the base. He was pretty sure that the Atlanteans and Amazons were getting wise to the location of their base, and he knew it wouldn’t be easy for them if they decided on a head on assault. 

He tosses these thoughts out of his mind, though they are replaced by something far more ominous. ‘He was only a kid’ he thinks, ruminating on the life he’d taken on that recon mission. A young Atlantean had stumbled across the masked man, apparently having been on his own mission. ‘He was slow, you were fast’ he thinks, remembering how easily the knife slid into the soldier’s neck. He didn’t know why, but watching the Atlantean struggle on the ground made him take his helmet off. He wanted to end the pain and suffering of his enemy.

When he did though, he came eye to eye with a young man and the piercing brown eyes that he would remember for the rest of his life. “He couldn’t have been more than nineteen” he says aloud, knowing that he was alone. 

Or so he thought. 

Helena reaches out, placing her spectral hand on his shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault sweetie” she says, having been following him and watching him when he’d gone out. “It was him or you, and Maria needs you. If you need to blame someone, blame Aquaman” she says, wishing that he could hear her. 

She smiles sadly to herself, letting her hand drop as she sits down besides her husband who is none the wiser to her being there. “I haven’t seen her laugh and smile this much in a while” she says, looking on enviously at the moment Nireva was sharing with her daughter. 

“We should’ve taught her to swim. I guess...I guess we just thought we’d have all the time in the world didn’t we? That we’d have more than enough time to teach her that after how to use a crossbow, or judo or why corn syrup is evil” she says, chuckling to herself. 

“I used to worry about if we were good parents” she admits, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear only for it to float right back where it originally was. “Raising her like we did, training her even if we wanted her to become a doctor” she laughs. “But...watching you...I know we were sweetie. We did good” she says. She notices that as usual per lately, he doesn’t hear her, and chuckles to herself. “You used to be such a good listener babe”. 

She turns serious suddenly.

“But you need to keep doing good, and hold it together any way you can. That’s why you’re going to go in there and swim with her and Nireva” she says, pushing her hand into the mans chest and closing her eyes, implanting a suggestion in the man’s mind. His eyes light up and he stands abruptly, shrugging off his coat and kicking off his shoes. He keeps going and Helena smirks to herself. “Ohh la la, a first class ticket to the show” she says before shouting, “hey, keep your shirt and boxers on! Blondie only gets a little look right now, and your daughter is in there” she says.    
  
Vic indeed stops, leaving his boxers and t shirt on, beginning to plod towards the water. An excited Maria shouts out for her father to join them, and Nireva just blushes and turns away, pretending not to admire the man’s physique. “Mind if I join you ladies?” he asks, making Maria giggle, which was probably his intent to begin with. Helena smiles to herself, knowing that her family was going to be okay.

She turns to the side, looking at the pile of Vic’s clothes when she notices something and begins to cry a bit. The tears slide down her face as she reaches down to touch the article of clothing, though her hand naturally goes through it. She sighs and instead pretends to stroke the fabric, wanting to believe she could still feel it.

“Orange socks” she says to herself, remembering their conversation from a long time ago.

**_Downtown Gotham_ **

It was getting late, and as per usual that meant that the Amazon patrol would have to start moving back towards their basecamp. Shayera was tired, having taken to walking at the head of the column, her mind straying away from the battlefield she found herself on. 

‘Pffft’ she scoffs mentally. ‘Some battlefield. We haven’t been shot at all day’ she thinks, having pressed on for much longer because of that. ‘Where the hell are they?’ she asks herself. “Commander, maybe we should start heading back” one of the more open Amazons, Lythria she believed her name was, suggests.

Shayera ignores her for a minute, looking down the near endless rows of abandoned apartment buildings and streets. Each brick had the ability to hide an unseen horror, and that was taking a toll on each of the Amazons. “Why won’t they come out and fight us like warriors?” one of the women asks, throwing her shield and spear down in anger. “They hide like fucking cowards!” she shouts into the darkening sky, hoping to draw at least one or some of them into a confrontation. “Come on! Are you afraid? This is the best that man’s world can offer us?” the woman continues on, drawing an apathetic look from Shayera.

‘It’s better to let them blow off steam’ she thinks to herself, not finding herself in much of a mood to care. The war was draining her, and she couldn’t hide it anymore. ‘You didn’t expect it to be like this when you joined Diana’ she thinks, wanting to shift some of the responsibility for this war away from her. She doesn’t allow that though, and she honestly corrects herself. She knew that she had a lot of blood on her hands and a lot more to answer for. 

Shayera was honest if she was anything.

“Huh? You fuck…” 

The woman’s curses are cut off by the sound of a loud shot that emanates down the concrete canyon. She is no longer yelling or cursing, and now all she does is gurgle in pain. Blood pours out of an open wound at her throat, a wound she desperately tries to staunch with her hand before she falls down onto her knees. 

“AMAZONS! TAKE COVER!” Shayera shouts, taking into the air and scanning the area for any sign of enemies. The Amazons were unbeatable one on one, but if you could catch them by surprise they would be completely at your mercy. 

Shayera sways about, providing a tempting moving target for any sniper that had decided to stick around for another shot. ‘Hopefully it gives them enough time to find him’ she thinks, already seeing that a few of her warriors had jumped into action, scattering out amongst the ruins and conducting a sweep.

More fire erupts from the sides of the buildings, where her scouts had moved through, and she knows that something was going terribly wrong. The screams of the Amazons were heard as they died or fell wounded, she couldn’t tell. The darkness and the complete haphazard nature of her surroundings preempted her from getting a good read on where the enemy was. 

‘Dammit Shayera think!’ she castigates herself, desperate to come up with something that would help her and her rapidly dying sisters. It’s then that something whizzes through the air, and she feels a crippling pain as half of her wing is torn from her body.

She plummets downward to the street below, turning onto her back at the last moment as she lands harshly against the smashed in and dented roof of a car. She begins to moan in pain, knowing that she had broken numerous ribs. ‘At least I wasn’t higher up’ she thinks to herself, looking up to see the Amazons retreating, Vixen casting an apologetic look over her way before trying to keep the remaining warriors alive. 

She didn’t blame her. Much.

She continues to groan in pain, trying to get up but failing, the pain rocketing through her frame. “Ohh fuck that hurts” she screams aloud, trying to reach for her mace in the hopes of defending herself. She turns her head slightly to the left, seeing the nth metal device laying at least fifteen feet away. ‘There goes that plan’ she thinks wryly, feeling herself losing more and more blood. 

“It does huh?” a cruel sounding voice says from a few feet away, the shadows advancing on her. “Well, it’s about to get a lot fucking worse birdie” the man says, standing above her while holding an automatic rifle. It took her an instant to realize who it was, but when she does dread settles into the very pit of her stomach. 

“Black Mask” she snarls, having thought for sure that the man had died. “Aww, real sweet of you to remember Shayera” he says, bringing his boot clad up and slamming it down on the Thanagarian’s face, knocking her out instantly and sending her into darkness.

**_Last Hope Base, Main Atrium_ **

Bruce moves through the mass of troops, all of which part like the red sea at his approach. They all wanted to show their respect to the batsuit clad man who had effectively served as a morale booster in these recent dark days. 

“Whoo hoo, heading out again Bats? Give ‘em hell!” one shouts, while others shout similar encouragement. He doesn’t smile, nor acknowledge it, but it does give him a sense of power. He missed this, and part of him hated that he did. The respect and deferment. The troops had all started to fight even harder, and less casualties were coming in. Defections and desertion had gone down as well, which was good. There had been rumors of regiments of traitors, men and women who joined the Amazons or Atlanteans in the hopes of survival. Nobody had seen them or faced them in combat, but he was sure they were out there.

After all, some had joined Darkseid during the Apokolips war after all.

“Batman, please report to the Atrium. Batman, I repeat, report to the Atrium” Oracle’s voice booms out over the intercom, instantly piquing Bruce’s interest. He turns down a side tunnel, allowing a few soldiers to pass him before continuing on. They stop and salute him, sending the man for a bit of a loop. 

‘I guess I’m in the army whether I like it or not’ he thinks to himself, his mind turning to Barbara Gordon. She had taken the death of her husband harshly, though the presence of her children kept her going. He had seen her intermittently, but with his newfound courage and his return to the field he had less time than he would’ve liked. 

He moves out into the Atrium, shocked by the number of men and women present. He sees Harley Quinn first, and assumes that she had something to do with whatever was going on. “Quinn, status report” he says, the smirking woman turning to him with a shrug. “Not me batsy, me and my boys were all snuggled up in our bed after the raid on the Amazon base camp last night” she says, taking the man by the arm and excitedly pulling the vigilante forward. “But you’re going to want to see who did bring ya a gift!” she teases excitedly, pushing through the crowd. “Ey, outta the way! Big bad bat coming through!” she shouts, breaking the two of them into the center.

Bruce settles his eyes first on the prisoner, for that was what she obviously was. Her hands were tied behind her back and her head was turned down, her mask having been removed. “Hawkgirl” he says to himself. 

That wasn’t the interesting thing however, as the three figures standing behind the woman drew his attention away. The Black Mask, a.k.a Roman Sionis, was standing directly behind the bound woman, the muzzle of his AK47 pressed into the back of her head. To his left was Bane, another Gotham rouge he’d long since written off. 

The third figure is who shocked him the most.

“Selina” he says, once more to himself, at the same time as the woman looks up and notices him. Her eyes light up for a second before she looks away, her arm reaching up to her rub her elbow. He knew the woman well enough to see her embarrassment. 

They hadn’t ended things well, and as usual he knew it was his fault.

She’d come to him, wanting to settle down, put her life of crime behind her. He remembered how she’d looked up at him, so sure that he’d take her back yet again. The cosmic irony was that he was sure that this was the one time she was telling the truth. It was also the one time that he had to tell her no.

‘I was with Diana’ he remembers, losing himself in the sad memory that prefaced so many happy ones. He’d always regret the way her face fell at his words, how she first tried seduction and then anger before storming out of the manor, promising to never see him again.

She’d kept her promise, until now. 

‘I thought she died during the war’ he thinks, finding himself conflicted on the woman’s arrival. 

“Hey Bats, long time no see” Black Mask says, the masked vigilante not saying anything as he moves forward, looking down at the former leaguer who pointedly ignores him. “I heard you were back in the business” the crime boss says. “I heard you were out of it” Bruce retorts, causing the man to chuckle and reach up behind him, working on removing the mask. He reveals his face, which was the same Bruce remembered except for the scar across his eye.    
  
“Well, looks like you were wrong in what you heard Bruce” he says, and Bruce watches as Catwoman comes up to take his mask. He smiles at her, and to his shock it was a reciprocated smile, filled with warmth. “Thanks babe” he says lightly, sending Bruce for another loop. 

Selina returned the look with equal passion, hinting at a relationship between the two. She looked similar to him, though maybe a little thinner. War did that to everyone. She wore the same dark suit she always wore, skin tight as usual. Everything was the same as he remembered, and that caused him an unexpected pain.    
  
He turns his attention towards Bane, the hulking villain who had defeated him and nearly broken him. It appeared that it was he who was now broken. He hunched down, avoiding looking at anyone. Batman doesn’t pay him any more attention, and instead looks back at Hawkgirl. “It seems you’ve brought us something” he says to Black Mask, who just nods. “We did. A gift to the ‘ole US of A” he says. 

“Do what you want with the bitch. We wiped out what was left of her women. A few got away”.

“Was there any other notable metahumans with her?” Batman asks, interested. “Yeah, that black woman. Supermodel with the animal power crap? Forgot who she was. Only knew this one because she busted my drug running scheme back in ‘08. Wasn’t that a fun time huh Hawkbitch?” he asks, kicking her in the lower back and drawing a grunt of pain from the woman.

Batman normally would’ve stopped him, but he couldn’t find it in him to do so this time. She deserved it in many ways. He does take notice of her cripple wing, nearly half of it having been torn off. “Did you do that?” Batman asks apathetically. “Sure did, had to make sure the bitch couldn’t fly away” Sionis retorts. Shayera looks up at Batman, a shattered expression adorning her face. Her wings were in many ways her freedom, and he couldn’t fathom the Shayera he knew in the past being able to live without them. 

He turns back to Sionis and nods. “Good” he says before turning his back and walking away, shocking Hawkgirl. “Take her to the interrogation room. Let Oracle or Quinn work on her, depending on how much pain you want her to experience” he says.

“Get the bitch up” Harley shouts, two of her soldiers instantly complying. “Harley…” Deadshot says, stepping forward to place a hand on her arm to stop her. She shrugs him off violently, turning to glare at him. “No, I’ll handle this Floyd” she teases, glaring balefully at the woman. “Me and this birdie need ‘ta have a little talk. Mainly about how ya bashed my best friend’s skull in for not joining your little band of bitches” she says, her bat already in hand. Hawkgirl can’t help but feel a shiver of fear come up her spine as the soldiers begin to drag her away, not caring one bit for her injuries.

“No! No please! BAAATMMMAN!!” she shouts, still holding out hope that Bruce would save her, not allowing her to subjected to the sadistic torture that the blonde former pyschologist would put her through.

  
**_Amazon Base Camp_ **

Vixen was running as fast as her feet could carry her, tapping into the power of her totem to bring her towards the command tent. ‘Dammit Shayera’ she thinks angrily. ‘I warned you about going there! Why didn’t you fucking listen?’ she asks herself, ignoring the befuddled looks from the sentries who simply let her past the abatis barricades.

She grimaced at the bodies still laying there, impaled upon the spikes. 

She pushes the imagery into the back of her mind, not wanting to feel that guilt that always welled up in the bottom of her gut whenever she thought about how many she’d killed. The command tent was coming up anyway, so the black woman pushed the deaths away, knowing that Diana would be more than angered.

“Goddess!” she shouts, moving to a stop at the entrance of the tent, a hand coming out instantly and grasping her harshly by the throat. She is lifted off the ground with inhuman strength. Diana exits the tent, dressed in her armor and well armed. Vixen struggles, choking as the pressure on her trachea is increased.

“What is it?” she asks, setting her down and decreasing the pressure she held on the other woman’s throat. Aquaman walks out besides her, looking as angry if not angrier than the woman who now held her life figuratively and literally in her hand. “Shayera...has been...captured” she croaks out, causing Diana to sigh and drop the woman, who lands in the dust and instantly takes a deep breath into her lungs, inhaling air as if she would never have any again. 

Diana is expressionless, or at least she schools any emotions she might be experiencing under a stoic facade. “Another lieutenant lost Diana” Arthur says with a smirk. He was going to extract vengeance for her refusal to be his, and he would do so by any means necessary, even if he had to rub her face in the defeat of her warriors to do so. 

Wonder Woman glares at the man before turning back to Vixen who was now starting to get up, her mind fixated only on surviving. ‘I made such a mistake’ she thinks, hoping that Diana wouldn’t sense her faltering faith in their cause. 

Unbeknownst to her, Huntress was there, quietly watching and reading the black woman’s thoughts. “Ahh, little buyers remorse huh Mari?” she asks, a sadistic smile on her face. “Let’s see how we can use this” she thinks, watching the situation play out.

“How many others?” she asks, ignoring the wounded state she’d put her former friend in.

“Almost all of them” Vixen says, looking away pointedly as she tries to ignore the anger in the goddess’ eyes. “Hmm, very well then” she says, looking out past the ruins to watch an artillery barrage land amongst the dust and dirt, undoubtedly killing some of their warriors or Arthur’s in the process. 

“Was it Batman?” she asks, having gotten used to her former husband’s resumed vigilantism over the past weeks. She wasn’t ready to confront him though, and she’d had to prepare herself fully, cover all angles and come up with a proper plan on the proper field of battle if she was going to defeat them. The time for such a confrontation was coming soon, and she knew it. 

“No Diana, it was...well, I think it was Black Mask…” Vixen says causing Arthur to intervene. “Wasn’t that some crime lord before the war?” he asks, having spent precious little time above the sea. 

“Yes” Diana says simply, her eyes moving back towards the city. She turns abruptly back to Vixen, staring the woman down. “You are now my second in command. Tell me, was that rebel base camp in Gotham General Hospital still operational” she asks,

Mari is confused, but eventually she nods in the affirmative, having been there scouting only last week. “Yes, and their defenses are still strong” she says, knowing for a fact that the Gothamites were holding onto that hospital tooth and nail. Mostly to protect the wounded inside. 

“Good, they shall crumble then, and I will finally be ready to meet Bruce” she says, drawing Aquaman’s protest. He steps forward, standing in her way. “No” he says. Diana’s eyes become daggers, and her hand moves to the hilt of her sheathed sword. “Who are you to tell me, Queen of the Amazons and the goddess of war, what to do?” she asks.

“I am the king of Atlantis, and the only thing keeping your army from being completely obliterated” he states matter of factly, shocking some of the women nearby. It was well known of course that the Atlanteans were the only thing keeping the Amazonian war effort afloat, though it was a death sentence to mention it aloud.

Diana looks away, a look of rage and embarrassment on her face. 

Arthur is quiet, revelling in the quiet and quick victory he had secured. He turns to Vixen, a wry smile on his face. “I will lead the assault on the hospital. I will then draw the Batman out and kill him, before presenting his skull to you as a wedding present” he teases, turning back to Diana and moving off without another word, his trident in hand.

At that moment some wounded Amazons were coming through, and he pushed right on through them sending the warriors to the ground. They fumed, but said and did nothing in return for fear of what the Atlantean would do to them, let alone their goddess.

‘Reliance on Atlantis has made them weak’ Diana laments, remembering a time when an Amazon would never yield for a man, not even a king. ‘It appears that things will never be the same again’

She turns to Vixen, an expression that the other woman couldn’t quite place adorning her features. It looked like defeat, though she knew it wasn’t possible. Diana never contemplated defeat. No. She was reserved, sure of what now had to be done.

‘Like a lioness about to pounce’ she thinks to herself.

“Ready every Amazon you have left” she says. “I want their armor and weapons shined and sharpened” she says. “The battle to end this war will begin soon, but we must wait first while the Atlanteans are destroyed” she says, moving into the tent. Mari is shocked by the woman’s openness, but follows her nonetheless. “My Queen, should we be speaking so openly?” she asks, fearful of Atlantean spies though she doubted it. ‘Damn, I really hate speaking all proper like this too’ she adds mentally, despising the awe that Diana forced all of them to hold her in.

“It doesn’t matter anymore Mari” she says, sighing while placing her helmet on the table. “It will soon be all over. All of it. The Atlanteans will be destroyed, and our escape will be cut off. Victory or death” she says, looking up at the roof of the tent before closing her eyes and sighing. She opens them and turn serious, allowing Mari to see the resolve in her eyes.

“After the battle is over, and the Amazons stand master of the world, you will become their queen” she says, shocking the former supermodel. Diana preempts any attempt by her to disagree, obviously having already come to a decision. “I’m going to leave Mari” she says, gesturing for the woman to sit down. “I only want my husband and my son” she says. “I will get Bruce and then we will kill Darkseid, or maybe we won’t bother” she says, sounding unsure of herself.    
  
Mari was shocked at the emotional vulnerability of the woman, especially with the goddess refusing to abide by weakness in others. “I...I’m tired” she admits. “I just want my family back. War will always be here, and I hate having to wage it constantly. It hasn’t made me feel anything other than empty” she says, chuckling to herself. “I thought I could be like Ares” she admits. “Only focused on waging war and gaining power from it. But Ares felt that way because war was all he’d ever known. All he’d ever wanted. I...I had everything I wanted” she admits. “I never would’ve thought I’d want any of what I had. I was strong, a demi god who was destined to lead Themyscira” she says, a light smile coming to her face. 

She looks away and then looks back up at the woman, tears slipping out.

“I traded that all away” she says. “And I never regretted it. My sword and shield for an apron and a vacuum. Alfred needed help from time to time and with how old he got….” she says, stopping to remember how she had killed the man to hurt Bruce. ‘That was in the early days’ she thinks. ‘We will take him from the Styx too, and I will beg his forgiveness’.

“I stopped archery practice, sword fighting and traded them in for spongebob in the morning with my son followed by legos. My sword for a crayon” she says. “I traded in the rambunctious camaraderie of my sisters, full of expectation and a constant need for strength for the gentle embrace of my husband, Bruce never expected...that’s his biggest flaw. He does everything for himself, he has plans and back up plans beyond. He wasn’t the perfect husband. He was often cold, absorbed in his work and inflexible….but he was kind, and he tried. He tried more than any other man would’ve. Gods know I was just as hard to be married to” she says, her mind going off towards the dunes of time.

“I am making a trade once again” she says, idly playing with the horsehair plume of her helmet. “I leave you everything. My mind is set on higher goals” she says.

Mari was shocked, and her surprise wasn’t helped by the uncomfortable silence they settle into. She didn’t know what to say, and if she did she doubted that she’d have the courage to say it. Diana sighs and looks at her, all emotion gone from her face. “I will kill you if my words ever reach anyone else’s ears” she says at which Mari nods, her mind already settling on a brighter future. 

‘Queen huh?’ she thinks to herself, liking how that sounded.

‘I could get used to that’.

**_Interrogation Room, Last Hope_ **

The fist impacted against her jaw harshly yet again, dislodging a few more teeth. She couldn’t exactly tell how many strikes had been landed on her, but she knew it was a fair number. “Ya ain’t talking yet? Wow, can’t decide if you’re brave, or just stupid” Harley says, bringing her fist down on the opposite side of the Thanagarian’s face. 

“Fuuu...uuuck...you” Hawkgirl gets out, refusing to break. 

“Awww, nice of ya to task, but I’m with someone” Harley says, pulling a knife from the sheathe at her belt. She brings it up, teasing it along the redhead’s cheek. “Ya know, you remind me a bit of my pal Ivy” she says, digging the blade in just a little deeper. “Because we’re both redheads” Shayera says apathetically, not responding to the torture, at least not yet.

‘But damn if it isn’t getting close’ she thinks, still clinging to consciousness. 

“Nah, because you’re all bleedin’ and dyin’ like her” she snarls, taking the knife and abruptly plunging it into the woman’s thigh, making her howl in pain. Harley ignores her and keeps going, carving a wound that wouldn’t close easily nor anytime soon. “Except I was there to hold her and comfort here, ya know, while she went to the giant forest in the sky” she goes on, reliving the past. “Your gal pal Wondy? Yeah she worked over her quite a bit. Left her ta die. I got there too late to join her but...I did get to say goodbye” she says, wiping a tear that the other woman knew wasn’t faked. 

Harley turns serious once more, glaring at the woman. “Now, Brucey boy has his own reasons for not killing ya, YET” she stresses. “Wants info out of ya and such. I want info too, but a different kind” she says. “Who. Was. At. Gotham. Gardens” she punctuates every word with a tap on her cheek with the side of the blade. “On the day Wondy decided to be a world class bitch?”

“I…” Shayera starts, before Harley places her hand over her mouth. 

“Now hush, and think, reaaaaal hard about your answer toots” she says. “Because I’ll know if you’re telling me a fib, and momma Harley doesn’t like when people fib. Got it? Besides...ain’t none of that info important...in the grand scheme of things. I just wanna kill the bitch who did what she did to Ivy. That’s all” she says. 

“It was me” Hawkgirl says resolutely.

Harley is thrown for a loop, her eyes going wide as she stares the woman down. “Was it now?” she asks. Shayera seems to have regained some of her courage, or maybe she just didn’t feel that she had anything left to lose. Regardless she starts talking. “I was sent in. The goddess wanted to recruit her. She refused so I tenderized her and left her to die” she says.

“Now..you ain’t lying are ya? Trying to cover up for someone…” Harley begins before a grating laugh that seemed to come through a field of pebbles reached her ears. “Would I lie? Besides, you saw her wounds. My mace really did a good job didn’t it?” she asks, getting ready to laugh before it is cut off in her throat, the blonde’s hands closing around her larynx. “YOU FUCKING BITCH!!!” she screams, jumping onto the woman and sending the chair falling back onto the floor. Harley doesn’t notice, and merely straddles the woman’s chest as she begins to choke the life out of her. Shayera’s hands were still bound, leaving her unable to fight back.

“I’LL KILL YOU!! I SWEAR TA G……”

“HARLEY!” a voice shouts, and the woman is suddenly yanked back and off of the now gasping woman. Batman stood, his hand on his former enemy’s shoulder. She struggles against him, hitting him in the side and chest as hard as she could before she collapses. “SHE KILLED RED!” she shouts, and Shayera looks up to see a sight she never thought she’d see. Batman wraps his arms around the smaller woman’s shoulders and hugs her close. “I know” he says simply, allowing the woman to unleash her tears into his chest. “I know” he repeats.

A knock on the door interrupts them, and Batman looks down at her. “Lawton is concerned about you, though he’s trying not to show it. You should go and see him before his tough guy persona is broken by how he’s running after you” he says, turning his attention to the woman on the ground, who looks up at him appreciatively, happy to have the assault and attempt on her life stopped.

“What about the winged bitch?” Harley asks, wiping her tears away. “I’ll handle her” Batman says, causing Shayera to feel that things were going to get a whole lot worse for her. “Alright bats, you’re the boss” Harley says, wiping a tear from her cheek. She casts one last look at the Thanagarian before walking away, opening and closing the door as she exits.

Bruce walks over and grasps the back of the chair, pulling it and the woman up at the same time. “Thanks” she says. “She was going to kill me”.

“In a minute, you’ll wish she had” Bruce says ominously, bringing out a case and setting it on the table. He unclasps the locking mechanism, exposing a syringe and a vial. He removes the vial first and then the syringe, uncapping the needle and inserting it into the top. He begins to extract some of the dark blue fluid inside the vial with the plunger of the syringe. 

Shayera begins to struggle against her bonds, not sure of what the liquid was but knowing that it wasn’t good. “What are you going to do to me?” she asks fearfully, watching as he moves to her side. He grasps her arm and causes her to wince as she is captured in his vice like grip. “It’s a new concoction of mine” he begins, explaining it as he finds a vein he can use and deftly presses it into her skin, pushing the plunger down and sending the vials contents into her bloodstream. “I used the chemical compounds of Scarecrow’s fear gas and combined it with a diluted version of the Joker toxin. In the end, it made quite an effective truth serum, though you most certainly won’t like how we get to it” Bruce says, stepping back and replacing everything in the case.

Shayera begins to feel whoozy, and the room begins to shake around her. Darkness was emanating off of the man in front of her like a flame, and she tried to blink away the sight. It only got worse and as the man turned she saw that his face was consumed by fire which poured from the eye sockets and mouth. She gasped in fear, trying to look away.

“What’s wrong Shayera?” a demonic sounding voice asks from her right. She can’t help but turn, slowly, trying to discern what was there in the dark. “Don’t like what you see?” it asks, a figure slowly emerging from the darkness. She gasps as a gnarled and half rotten moves forward and grabs her shoulder. She screams and struggles, trying to get out of the grasp of the fictitious phantom. “It’s not real! It’s not real!” she tries to tell herself before she opens her eyes and gasps in horror and pain. The figure had fully revealed itself, and the rotten toothless grin of her long dead husband was all that greeted her.

She couldn’t say anything, frozen in shock, fear and guilt as she looked into the empty eye sockets of her husband. “What’s the matter my love?” the corpse asks, moving even closer and beginning to claw at the woman. 

Her screams were heard all throughout the base, and passerbys shuddered at what she was being subjected to. None said a word though, remembering themselves what kind of things she’d done to others. 

**_Three Hours Later_ **

Oracle was sitting in her wheelchair outside of the interrogation room, having been told to wait there for Bruce to exit. The door opens and the Batman walks out, fully masked and in his suit. When the door opens she is shocked by what she sees and hears. Shayera was crying to herself, wounded beyond belief.

“Carter I’m so sorry…” she sobs, though her cries are muffled by Bruce slamming the door shut behind him. He looks at the incapacitated redhead and hands her a folder. “Get this to Waller” he says simply, looking beyond tired and as only Oracle could see, a little disgusted with herself. Barbara reaches out and takes the folder, knowing that the information they’d gotten from their former friend and colleague would undoubtedly come in handy. “Will...will she be okay?” she asks, unable to suppress her heroine instinct, even after everything that had been taken from her.

Bruce just looks back at the closed door, the muffled sobs and pleas for forgiveness audible from this close. “She killed Hawkman” he says simply, shocking Barbara. “He’d been injured during Darkseid’s invasion. Completely crippled. To end his pain, she killed him” he explains.

“No” he finishes. “I don’t think she’ll ever be okay. But the toxin will wear off, and when it does she’ll be imprisoned and tried for her crimes. I...I need to rest” he says simply, not waiting for the woman’s response before he walks down the hall. She agreed, and doesn’t say anything more, gesturing for two soldiers to come down the hall and remove the sobbing woman from the room and into a cell. 

‘I used to think it was just Diana who changed’ she thinks to herself, turning the motorized chair and moving down the hall. ‘But Bruce has too’.

**_Queen Mera’s Quarters_ **

“Ohh Arthur what’s wrong?” the redheaded woman asks the sobbing child, who only bats her hands away as he kicks in the crib. Neriva looks on nervously, not sure of what they should do. “You’ve eaten, you’ve been changed, I’ve been trying to cuddle you, what else do you want urchin?” she asks, reaching down to brush her finger through the little boy’s hair.

He continues to fuss in the crib, not being comfortable as he kicks off the blanket and refuses even the company of the stuffed animal he’d grown to love. “Is he sick my Queen?” Neriva asks, coming up to press the back of her hand against the child’s forehead. “No, Arthur is very quiet when he doesn’t feel good” she says, at a complete loss as the blonde baby doesn’t have a fever.

Unbeknownst to them, Bruce was walking down the hall at that same moment, and in his emotionally drained state the cries of the baby get to him. ‘No’ he says, trying to keep going. ‘This isn’t healthy. He isn’t Thomas’ his mind says firmly, though his heart whispers, ‘it’s still a crying baby’.

With a sigh he knocks on the door, waiting for one of the two women to answer. Neriva opens it with a glare. “The prince is...ohh” she says, the look falling from her face at the masked man’s entrance. “I apologize Batman...but…” she begins before being interrupted by Mera.

“Bruce is here? Please, let him in” she says, coming up behind the woman and reaching forward to take the man’s hand. “Arthur always calms down around you” she says, pulling him into the room. He hears Arthur’s cries and they prick deeply at his heart, though he feels warmth from where the Queen was holding his hand.

“Arthur” Mera says in a sing song voice. “Someone is here to see you” 

The little boy keeps crying, though Mera seemed to already be in a brighter mood with Bruce’s presence. He looks over the side of the cradle, causing the little boy to stop crying for a second, eyeing the man confusedly. He turns away and sobs even louder, being frightened of the mask. “Ohh no” Mera says, reaching up for the clasp of Bruce’s cowl instantly. “Arthur don’t cry” she giggles, blushing as Bruce’s hands come up to help her. “It’s only Bruce. You like Bruce remember? It’s only a mask” she teases lovingly, watching as the man’s bare face comes into view.

“Did you have to frighten my child?” she asks in a whisper, though it was clear from her voice that she was teasing him. “Sorry I…” he begins. “Shh, it’s fine” she says, leaning back over the crib as Arthur slowly peaks up at the man who now openly smiles back down at his antics. He slowly lowers the blanket away, looking up at the dark haired man. He crawls to the side of the crib and works to get to his feet, standing against the barrier. “Hi Arty” Bruce says, watching the little boy reach out once again and signal his desire to be picked up. 

Bruce does just that, and grasps the little boy about the waist before nestling him in the crook of his arm. Arty reaches out, palming the man’s cheeks as if he was trying to make sure that he was real. “Yeah Arty, there’s a man under the mask” he teases. “Sorry for scaring you. I wear that to scare other people. Not little boys who behave. You have been behaving you haven’t you?” he asks, lightly bouncing the giggling baby in his arms. 

“An angel” Neriva supplies, her arms crossed under her chest. “If he’s asleep”.

Mera casts a critical eye over at the servant who blushes and looks away. “I’m...I’m sorry my Queen. I spoke…”

“No, no, no” Mera says, laughing as she saddles into Bruce’s side, rubbing the little boy’s back. She couldn’t explain why, but...she wanted to be close with the man who had scratched such a deep spot in her son’s heart at such a quick pace. “I enjoy this open and feisty new Neriva. You’ve been spending time with that Maria girl, though I expect you do it also to be near her father” she says, getting a jab back in. 

Neriva blushes even brighter and smiles to herself. “Maria is such an amazing young girl” she admits. “So full of spirit and life”, ignoring the second part of the equation in regards to the girl’s father. 

“Hmm, well, why don’t you go see her then?” she asks, looking up at the man who was focused only on her son. “Bruce and I can put Arthur to bed” she says, noticing how the little boy was already nodding off, his head on Bruce’s chest as he sucks his thumb. His eyes were already closed, and he was more than comfortable. Neriva casts another look at Mera before nodding to herself, apparently liking the thought of being near the two Sage’s. 

“Well, if you need me my Queen, do not hesitate to call me” she says, rushing towards the door and down the hall, knowing the way to Vic’s quarter’s by heart at this point. 

Bruce slowly sets the sleeping baby down in the crib, though it was clear from his movements that he didn’t want to. He replaces the blanket and moves the stuffed toy into the child’s arms with such practiced ease that Mera is forced to think about how he had been with his son. 

She moves forward and slowly pulls the curtain across the baby’s crib, wanting him to be able to sleep privately. 

“Well, I better get..”

“Would you stay?” Mera asks suddenly, nervously clinging to his arm. 

“I mean, just for a little while. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to speak with anyone besides Neriva and Arthur, and he isn’t the best of conversationalists” she teases, her mind fixated on the kiss they had shared. It had been something that she was unable to avoid thinking about. It was….magical almost.

Bruce was thinking of the same thing, the two of them having avoided the subject since it happened. ‘Leave’ he thinks. ‘Get out of here quick’.

“Alright” he says, placing his cowl back on the table besides the crib. “For a little while” he says, not wanting to be away from Mera either. It had been so long for both of them without contact with another human being that didn’t have some sort of power dynamic. It was...comforting. They both sit down on Mera’s bed, their hands in their laps as they weren’t sure what to do. “Maybe I can get you a table” he says, trying to make conversation. “So you and anyone else you wanted could sit down” he says, her nod and and acknowledgement ending that conversation. 

“I...well..I wanted to talk about the kiss” she says evenly, trying to keep herself steady. He is silent, allowing her to go on. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. I guess I just...well, seeing you with Arthur, Arty as you call him...it just sparked something in me that I thought was long gone, and I just couldn’t help it” she says. 

Bruce feels his mouth go dry, and he doesn’t think he’d be able to speak but somehow he manages to say something. “I want to protect him...and you” he admits, drawing a curious look and a light smile from her. “Very sweet of you, but I’m more than capable of doing that myself” she says with a laugh before looking down, blushing even more. “But...it is nice to feel that a man wants to do that for us” she admits, before she seems to be set in an idea she had.    
  
She turns to the man and moves closer, their thighs touching as she reaches up and stroke his cheek and jawline. “What…” he begins to ask before he locks eyes with her. She just hums to herself, lightly going over his cheek. “You haven’t shaved in a few days” she admits, causing him to smile at the strange predicament he was finding himself in. 

“I forgot” he says simply, his own hand coming up to rub the back of hers, his other arm wrapping about her waist and pulling the woman practically into his lap. He was acting on instinct, something in his very nature calling out to be close to this woman.

She doesn’t seem to respond negatively, and in fact seems to relish the closeness. She keeps her attention on his cheek. “I’ll shave tonight” he says, wanting to continue conversation, afraid that the woman would disappear if he didn’t speak. “No. Don’t. I like it” she teases, moving even closer to him as the smile moves off of her face. Their lips are almost touching, so close that it would require only a bit of movement to change both of their worlds forever. 

“I...I want you” she admits, feeling an outpouring of emotions at the fact of her spoken truth. Sadness, heartbreak, betrayal and loneliness seemed to pour off of the two figures on the bed. “I want you too but is it…”

Mera silences his protests with her lips, her hand moving to the back of his head to push him deeper as the kiss deepened. It was harsh and needy, demanding as much as they got from one another without ceasing. Bruce presses his tongue against her lips, wanting to taste her and not willing to stop and ask if he could. Not that he needed too. Mera wanted to expose herself completely to this man, to be looked at not as an inconvenience to disposed of but a woman to be loved and cherished, if only for a night.

She finds herself falling on top of the man as he moves onto his back, helped by Mera pushing him down. Her hands explore him eagerly, undoing and unclasping whatever she could as the man’s hand comes up to her breast, kneading and squeezing her through her skin tight uniform. 

Their lips part, and he presses his face into her neck, lavishing her pulse point in attention and causing her to gasp and coo. “Ohh Bruce!” she moans, their lovemaking going unheard and unseen except by each other for the entirety of the night.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Gotham General Hospital, Defensive Line_ **

“You alright Henry?” comes a voice from behind the man which gives him a start. He turns away from the machine gun he had been perched at and gets ready for another fight, calming as the words reach him and the figure becomes clear. “Claire” he sighs, smiling to himself. “Get down here before one of the Atlantean’s take your head off” he teases, helping the woman down into the deep foxhole.

She smiles as she jumps down, her boots sloshing into the mud that had coagulated in the bottom of the hole. “Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you” she says, looking towards the fifty caliber machine gun they’d rested against some sandbags and debris. 

“Everything scares me nowadays” he admits with a shrug, looking out over the barren landscape. A flare goes up, illuminating shadows and shapes that he couldn’t readily make out. The first week he’d been out here he’d been scared, but now he was too worn to be scared. He was just tired.

“Well, I hope you’re getting better with that” she says, picking up her binoculars to to scan the no man’s land in front of the hospital. “I wanna say that I am, but I’m afraid of getting used to this shit” the man says, looking up at the moon. “How can I ever go back to normal if this is my new normal?”

Before the woman can answer a bright ray of light flashes by, the wake of a pulse rifle. It impacts against the sandbags behind them, sending a few flying off into the darkness. “Shit, Claire, I need ammo, now!” Henry shouts, jumping onto the fifty caliber and cocking it, letting off a string of rounds into the darkness. The bullets don’t find their marks instantly, but the tracers were going to help with that. The bright red bolts rocket through the air, further illuminating the advancing Atlanteans and highlighting them to anyone looking.

“Now, or we’re going to run dry!” he shouts, prompting the nervous woman into action. She unshoulders her rifle and rushes up out of the hole, keeping her back arched and her body down, desperately hoping to avoid the Atlantean’s firing lanes.

“On my way!” she shouts.

Across the battlefield Arthur is smiling, directing his forces with a wave of his trident. “Captain” he says, turning towards an officer to his right. “I want artillery brought to bear on the right side of the building. You will then send Lieutenant Nark and his men to assault through the ruins. No survivors”.

“Yes my king” the man says, snapping into a salute. “It shall be done”.

Arthur says nothing more, allowing the sycophant to scurry off to the command center, no doubt to relay his orders to the necessary units. Arthur looks back at the hospital, which was no brightly illuminated with searchlights. Rifle fire could be heard all around, and he knew that the defenders had advanced up to the second floor to get a better bead on his men. He could see the tracers cutting through the night air, as if they were alive and seeking out the Atlanteans of their own volition.

‘I will lure the Bat out’ he thinks, confident in his ability to defeat the other man whom he’d secretly always been jealous of. ‘And when I do, I’ll kill him’.

**_Atlantis_ **

Orm was discomforted, and that was never good news for those around him. 

Still, despite this fact, the general continued on. “From what we have heard, our forces have been unable to make any inroads within the Eastern seaboard of the United States” the older man says. “Europe was showing promise, but now? Our forces are in retreat. The Amazons are still bashing their heads against the wall there. They were able to defeat most of the West, however...they encountered a problem with the resurgence of Russian forces”.

The man stops and gestures towards a wall, the screen slowly coming to life. “A new metahuman, or perhaps simply an old one awakened, has been pushing them back quite easily. They call him...Red Star I believe”.

Orm says nothing as he studies the soviet era hero. Red energy emanated off of him, energy which he used to easily dispel the Amazons, incinerating many in one blast. “Do we have any intelligence regarding his weaknesses?” 

“No regent” the general says. “Though it appears he needs to, recharge from time to time as it were, we have no definitive proof of such claims. The Amazons are not as well versed in intelligence gathering as they are at warfare”.

“Indeed” Orm says, a smile gracing his features. “Tula!” he suddenly snaps, causing the younger woman to bow. “Yes regent?” 

Orm stands, grasping his own trident in his hand. “You and a handpicked team of soldiers are to infiltrate Russian borders” he begins. “I want you to kill this, Red Star, and bring me his head”.

Tula bows, bringing her forearm across her chest as she does. “It will be done regent. Where will our insertion point be?”

Orm does not answer immediately, instead moving to the screen and pulling up the map function. “Lake Baikal” he says, zooming in on the large body of water in the middle of Siberia. “It is fresh water, in fact, it contains an entire quarter of the world’s fresh water”.

“Umm, regent?” Tula begins, a questioning tone to her voice. “How are we to access it? It’s miles inland. Our forces would be exposed and vulnerable for hundreds of miles in either direction”.

Orm just smiles, gesturing for the map to zoom into an overviewed image of the earth below the lake. “There are countless tunnels leading from the Artic sea into the lake. They are well hidden as well. Nobody is quite sure how they got there, as there is no equatable volcanic activity in the region to cause such a phenomena. Atlantean scientists have their own theories however”.

He pulls up another image, this time seeming to be taken from a surface world camera. It was blurry mostly, but it did show a horrifying figure, its maw filled with sharp and elongated teeth, its eyes a bright red. It resembled a fish, but in a more human form. “This was taken by a 1960s underwater expedition in the lake. We found the images, as well as many others, within the confines of a sunken submarine. Apparently, the Russians found something intriguing. Something even we were unaware of”.

Tula studies the image, her eyes drawn to the evil visage of the henceforth unknown creature. “These things are in the lake?” she asks, trepidatiously. “And elsewhere we believe, but the largest number of sightings have occurred within the lake and the tunnels beneath. You see, my dear Tula, your mission carries two objectives within it” Orm says, stepping down off the throne stand and advancing on the woman past the general. 

She stands stock still, allowing the dark haired Atlantean to take her cheek in his hand. He leans in, a smile on his face. “We not only want to knock Russia out of the war, but Atlantis must harness the power of these creatures” he explains. 

He turns his head, keeping his hand upon the woman’s cheek as he does. “You may enter” he calls out, the door to the throne room hissing open almost instantly. Tula is shocked, and gasps in surprise as the black clad arch nemesis of Atlantis’ king enters the room. Black Manta stood before Orm and his assembled war council, and bowed. 

“Ahh David, very good of you” Orm says, gesturing for the man to rise. “We were just discussing the plans for Operation Artic Surge” he explains. “ 

“An audacious undertaking” the wetsuit clad man says in response. 

“Yes, yes it is, but there is more to it than that. The kingdom of Atlantis and its throne hangs within the balance. Even Tula here, gorgeous and dedicated as she is, has something to gain from it” he explains, letting the woman go and moving back to his throne. “Pardon regent?” she asks.

“Ohh enough of this regent nonsense” Orm says, waving her off. “You and I both know, I am meant to be king of Atlantis”.

Tula is shocked by the open display of treachery but keeps quiet, remembering the words that had been spoken before. ‘Something to gain from it’ she thinks, allowing the man to continue. “Atlantis is in retreat on all fronts. Our forces are spread thin and our victories, already as few as they are, are mostly pyrrhic. Arthur has set our kingdom on a course of self destruction and shed more Atlantean blood than ever before. For what? A chance at fucking the Amazonian whore?”

He waves his hand, dismissive of his half brother and bold in his words now that the blonde man was not there to combat him. It was something of a character trait of Orm’s. To speak brashly when nobody could challenge him. Still, Tula listened, his words having an impact on her as she acknowledged the truth of it.

“No. If we are to wage war, we should do it with the intent of bettering Atlantis, not one man. And if we can do it without shedding Atlantean blood? All the better for us”.

“How can we wage war without our people dying?” Tula asks.

Orm just smiles at the brown haired woman and gestures back to the image on the screen. “These” he says before his words fail him. He turns back to his general. “What did you call them?”

“Dead Waters my king” the general replies, dropping the presumption that this was anything other than a coup. Tula’s eyes widen at the open treachery, but she finds herself too engrossed in the possibilities to not hear the man out. “Ahh yes. Dead Waters. Now, here is where we allow Black Manta to speak” he says, indicating with his hand that the man should step forward and begin to speak. 

“They can be controlled” he says simply.    
  
“How? How can you expect to control such a….a…..a monster!” Tula shouts out. 

“With this” the man says nonplussed, reaching into the carrying compartment he had strapped to his back and retracting a small radio device. He flicks it on and the entire group watches as a dark shape swims into the room. Tula is shocked to see one of the creatures from the picture, it’s scaly green skin and sharp horrendous looking teeth. It swims about the black man before settling before him, resting on its haunches. 

“This device emits a radio frequency that these creatures find enjoyable” he explains. “It makes them amenable to commands and orders, especially from Atlanteans”.

He reaches up and snaps his fingers, ordering two soldiers to bring in a bound man. “Observe” he says, watching as the two soldiers let the chained man drop to the floor. He looks up in fear at the creature, trembling in his tattered rags. “Please, regent...don’t!” he shouts, already being able to intuit how he was going to do.

With a flick of a button on the control, the creature begins to growl and snarl. Black Manta raises a hand and points to the bound man. “Kill” he orders imperiously. Without any more prompting, the creatures lunges forward through the water and presses its claws right into the man’s ribcage, tearing through flesh as easily as a hot knife through butter. The man screams in horror and pain, blood swirling into the water before his is silenced by the beast’s jaw closing around his trachea, snapping his neck with the force it applied. 

“By Poseidon!” Tula shouts, having been shocked by the creature’s utter barbarism. She was a sadist at heart, but she had never seen such quick and remorseless carnage before in her life.

“Exactly” Orm says. 

He moves towards the creature and raises his trident, watching as it cowers in fear. Orm smiles, a sinister curvature to his lips at the power he now wielded. “This is only one my dear Tula” he explains. “Only one. Imagine an army? Millions perhaps. They breed like that creature on the surface...a rabbit. Yes, they breed like rabbits. In no time at all we would control the deadliest army the world had ever seen. Replaceable and terrifying. The Amazons, the loyalists and the surface dwellers wouldn’t stand a chance even if they all banded together”.

“And that is why we are truly going to Lake Baikal?” Tula asks, already knowing the answer. “To obtain more of these...Dead Waters”.

“Yes my dear”.

“And what of the personal gain for me?” she asks.

Orm just smiles lightly at her, grasping his trident close and once more moving before her. “This is a test for you Tula” he explains. “A test to see just how far a possible queen of Atlantis will go for her people”.

The younger woman feels a tingle go up her spine at the mention of the word queen, something that Orm could see in how her eyes give it away. “Ohh yes my dear Tula. If I am to be king, I need a queen and an heir” he teases, his free hand moving to her hip. “And such a queen would need to be proficient in matters of war, not just a brood mare like Mera was. No, she’d need to be a fighter and I see nobody better suited for the task than you” he says, causing the woman to blush. 

She was already leaning in to kiss the man, seeing her chance at wielding real power in Atlantis before her. He pulls back however, and she is startled by his sudden absence from her touch. She scowls, wishing to have further allured the man to enhance the security of her position. 

“That is all for the future though Tula. First? We must secure Atlantis’ victory, and then...we must kill Arthur”.

Tula found herself not caring at all about the death of the current king. ‘Especially if by killing him I can get so much further than my current station’ she thinks, having already justified the murder in her mind. ‘Sorry Arthur’ she thinks. ‘Should’ve been smarter than to leave your brother in charge’ she thinks, smiling as she admires Orm’s ability to come out on top and take advantage of a situation.

“So...do you agree?”

Tula is shaken out of her thoughts by the man’s words, and she quickly nods in acquiescence. “Of course my king” she says, bowing once more. “Good. Then assemble your troops. Black Manta will join you as your second in command and he will operate the machinery necessary to control the beasts” he says.

“Of course. When will we be leaving?”

“Immediately” Orm says. “As soon as they are under our control we will begin our assault upon Arthur, Diana and the United States. With those three gone, we will be free to move at our own will upon the rest of our enemies”.

“It will be done…” she says, not sure how to finish the statement. She eventually settles on “my king”.

Orm smiles nefariously, and gestures for her to move off. “Hurry Tula. Time is of the essence. I eagerly await news of your victory” he says, watching as the woman exits the throne room speedily. 

All is silent until the now hopeful king of Atlantis turns to Manta, a grim expression of determination on his face. “You didn’t mean any of that did you?” he asks. “Of course I did…” Orm defends himself, acting as if he was offended by the mere suggestion of double dealing. The slowly forming smirk on his face gives him away. “IF she plays by the rules. Atlantis can never again suffer from a headstrong queen. No. I will bed her and use her, but only if I find it expedient” he explains before looking back towards the exit.

“Report to me everything she says and does” he orders. “Become her confidant, an ally as it were. If I give the order…” he says, trailing off to allow the words to fully sink in.

“Kill her” he finishes. Manta salutes as well, showing deference to the man who had paid him a handsome sum to be his agent. “Yes King Orm” he says, turning and advancing out of the throne room, the now sated Dead Water following him like a canine companion.

Orm looks out distastefully at the remains of the prisoner and clicks his fingers. “Have someone clean this up” he orders the two soldiers. “I don’t want it to stain my floors”.

**_Last Hope Base_ **

Mera murred in her sleep, cuddling even closer into the warm and toned chest that she was resting her head on. Her hand was splayed out over Bruce’s pectoral, gently rubbing and caressing her as she yearned for the warmth. Bruce’s hand arm was around her waist, holding her tightly to him while the covers were placed over their bodies.

He was awake, staring at the ceiling while thoughts raged through his mind.

‘What have I done?’ he asks himself over and over, remembering the night before. It had been amazing, more than amazing. It had been perfect. 

Mera and him had acted in bed as if they had been together for years, holding nothing back from one another while they both eagerly worked to sate one another. It had been a momentous task for the both of them, but it was one that was eventually accomplished after multiple bouts of lovemaking.

He couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal though, and Diana’s face kept coming into his mind. He couldn’t help it, and no matter how much he tried to convince himself that things had changed and that the woman he had loved so passionately was dead and gone, he couldn’t shake the thoughts away.

“Hmm, you’re as hard as a rock” he hears from Mera’s lips, though it sounded much sleepier due to her quasi awake state. Bruce takes the opportunity to move away from his thoughts and looks down at the woman, a quirked eyebrow and a teasing expression. He comes face to face with Mera’s bright blue orbs, which seem to pierce into him with all the intensity of a tidal wave. “Not remotely what I meant Bruce” she says, moving in even closer and kissing along his shoulder.

“Mera...I…” he begins, before his words are cut off, the woman’s finger going to his lips.

“Please Bruce...just...don’t say anything like that right now” she warns, already sensing the thoughts that plagued his mind. She nuzzles into his neck, kissing along his pulse point and allowing her breath to tease against his skin with the utterance of her words. “We’ve both suffered so much...you more than anyone. Just...pretend for now. Is that really so bad?” she asks, moving back to look up at the man.

Her eyes seem tear filled and it tugs at his heart in a way he didn’t think it would have anymore. “Just, for a little while, for two people to take comfort with one another? I just need this right now. Your hands, your lips and you. You’ve given everything else to the world, let me take these and give you everything of mine. The Bruce I know was always an accomplished actor when he needed to be, so for now just...let me pretend you’re mine” she says, waiting for his agreement and praying it would come.

Bruce remains silent, the mental image he had of Diana slowly fading into the back of his mind as the redheaded woman looks at him with baited breath. ‘I need this too’ he thinks, having enjoyed the feeling of a warm and loving body next to him for the first time in a long time. He reaches forward and takes the woman’s cheek in his hand, his lips following soon after and attaching to hers. 

Mera leans in and savagely attaches herself to him, her arms wrapping about his broad shoulders and her body laying atop of his, her breasts pressed against his chest. The kiss deepens, and he feels her tongue gently probing his lips, almost asking for entry. He smiles in spite of himself, twisting and turning until she was below him, and he atop her. ‘So much different from Diana’ he thinks, finding himself able to compare and contrast the two woman easily. 

Mera, despite her ferocity in battle, was much more submissive, though just that much more giving in her own way as well. He wouldn’t say that either of the women were better or worse than the other, but he would concede that making love with the Atlantean queen was certainly an experience. 

His thoughts and their actions are interrupted by a cry from the opposite side of the room, and Bruce pulls back from the woman’s lips, a smile gracing his features while Mera reaches up for one last lazy kiss. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been interrupted while making love” Mera teases, their breath still colliding with each other in mid air. “Me too” Bruce replies, remembering how clingy Thomas was for his mother and father. “I’ll get him” Bruce offers, slowly moving out of bed and throwing his legs over the side, rubbing his head before he stands.

“But you’re naked!” Mera exclaims, though she enjoys the sight of the man’s nude body.

Bruce is about to agree and shuffle off Arty duty to his mother before he looks down and sees a folded robe on the chair beside the bed. A note atop it indicates that Neriva had come in and left the items for the couple. He hands the redheaded woman the note from her servant and dons the robe, fastening it at the center. He smiled, enjoying the feelings that were coursing through him at the moment. He had a good nights rest as well, not having any flashbacks for the first time in a long while. 

He turns over his shoulder to watch Mera, who blushes as she sits up in bed and reads the note. The blankets pool about her waist, her large rounded breasts exposed along with her entire upper half. Bruce has to shake his head to vacate the thoughts before Mera turns and smiles, apparently having noticed and indeed approved of Bruce’s glances at her.

“I have a very forward servant” she teases, throwing the piece of paper back onto the table while Bruce hands her her own robe. “I have some experience with that” he says, going back to Alfred and feeling some of the sadness force its way back into his heart.

Arty distracts him once more, letting out a cry for attention, food or relief of some other kind that puts Bruce’s priorities back in line. “Coming Arty, coming” he says, allowing Mera to don her own robe. He moves across the room, ignoring the scattering of clothes and armor before he opens the curtain, smiling at the crying blonde boy who was already standing against the railing of his crib.

The boy quiets at seeing the man, apparently having expected his mother. “What’s the matter Arty?” Bruce asks with a teasing lilt to his voice. “Can only get at certain times?”

The little boy giggles, not disappointed in the least by the unexpected arrival of one of his favorite people. Bruce leans in and picks the baby up, cradling him under the arms and pulling him into his chest, balancing the boy by his bottom in the crook of his arm. Arty reaches out and places his hands on Bruce’s cheeks, rubbing and squeezing as he giggles at the man.

“He likes you” Mera says, now fully dressed in her robe as she comes up besides the two of them. She molds into Bruce’s side and reaches across, tickling the little boy’s stomach through his onesie. “Good morning my little urchin” she says, leaning in and nuzzling the boy’s nose with her own. 

Arty pulls his hands back and claps, his sign for enjoying whatever it was that was happening. Both hear a sudden noise from the baby’s belly, a low grumbling that indicates why Arty had been crying in the first place. Having been momentarily distracted from his desire, the little boy cries out once again.    
  
“Let me take him Bruce” she says, grasping the little boy by the waist and pulling her to him. She walks over towards the mini fridge that the provisional unit had been able to provide her, and she pulls out a can of baby food and a tin of anchovies. Bruce feels his stomach church as she sets the little boy down in her lap on the bed and begins to feed him the mixture. Mera looks up and smiles. “What? Atlanteans need fish Bruce” she explains.

“Yeah...I know” he says, being disgusted by the mere sight and smell of anchovies. Regardless, he comes to sit beside the two, an arm going around Mera’s shoulders. She doesn’t say anything, but she blushes bright red and smiles widely, leaning into him while Arthur takes the spoon and eagerly sucks on it. “No my prince, the spoon isn’t edible” she teases, gently retracting it from his mouth and replenishing the stockpile of green goo and fish onto it, repeating the action again and again.

“I guess he was hungry” Bruce says, running his fingers through the blonde locks of hair. “He always is. Don’t let his size fool you. This little boy seems to be able to eat half of his body weight” she teases.

The moment is interrupted by the door crashing open, and Neriva entering the room, breathless. “My queen...Bat...Bruce!” she shouts. “What is it?” Bruce asks, standing up quickly while Mera watches nervously.    
  
The blonde woman forges on, knowing that time was of the essence. “I don’t understand all of it, but Gotham hospital is under attack. Aquaman” she spits, referring to use the same name for the man that graced his son, “is leading the attack”.

Bruce’s eyes harden and he instantly gathers up his suit and cowl, slipping into it quickly and easily, having shed his robe without any regards to modesty. Both women took time out of their panic to admire him again, but they quickly come back to their senses.

Mera stands and hands Arty to Neriva, the little boy looking back confusedly at his mother. “Neriva, watch Arthur. I’m going with Bruce” she explains. “No” Batman says, now wearing the cowl. “You’ll stay…”   
  


“I will do no such thing!” Mera says harshly. “I am the Queen of Atlantis, and I refuse to allow that monster to continue taking lives. I will not be kept out of this war Bruce. I won’t!” she shouts, stamping her foot.

“What about Art…”.

“I love my son Bruce, more than anything. But how can I look him in the eyes and tell him that I love him when I refused to fight for a better world for him?” she asks, reaching out to take his hand. “Let me come with you. Let me help you” she implores, a desire for vengeance and action communicated with a simple glance.

“....fine”

Without another word, Bruce turns and walks towards the exit. “I will meet you in the assault bat. They’ll probably send Harley and her unit” he explains. Mera sighs and nods, having already known that the former psychiatrist would be leading the charge. “I’ll see you there!” Mera says, racing over to where her uniform hung. Her crown was also present on the table, and she grabs it quickly, placing it on her head in a show of power that would undoubtedly anger Arthur. 

Bruce is about to pass Neriva when Arthur reaches out, grabbing his cape. The vigilante stops and turns, looking at the boy who was no longer afraid of his mask. He wants to keep going, but the deep blue eyes stop him. “Bye...bye?” the boy says, seeming to ask the question with sadness in his voice. All three adults stop, having heard the baby’s first words. Bruce turns and hugs the little boy gently. “Just for now Arty. Mommy and I will be back” he says, trying his best to calm the young boy.

Arty seems to understand and raises his hand, flexing and unflexing his fingers while sadly repeating. “Bye bye”. Mera, now fully dressed, rushes up besides the little boy and scoops him into her arms, smothering his face in kisses. Arty lightens up and begins to giggle. “We will be back my love. I promise” she says before slowly handing the prince back to Neriva, mentally being unwilling to part with the child but knowing she had too.

“Bye bye” the little boy repeats, perched in Neriva’s arms as the two adults exit. 

“Only for a little while sweetie. Only a little while” Neriva says, bouncing him in her arms. “How about we let mommy and….Bruce” she says, not sure of what to call or consider the man at this point, “do what they need to do, while we go see Maria and Vic. Hmm? Maybe we can go swimming even? How does that sound?” she asks, wondering if more words were soon to follow. 

“Grrrgrgrg” the baby spews out, a little bit of saliva trailing over his lips as he inserts his thumb into his mouth. His nanny smiles and kisses his forehead. “Alright, so one step at a time. We have bye bye down, let’s work on hello” she says, walking out of the room towards the Sage’s quarters.

**_Gotham Route 74, “The Crazies”_ **

The armored vehicle rattled and shook, having to go over a good amount of rubble as it was en route to its destination. Batman and Mera sat towards the back, flanked on either side by members of the unit. Harley Quinn stood in the middle, her hand latched onto an overhanging ladder step which led into the gun turret. 

The sound of machine gun fire rattled above them, the group of two apcs passing through Amazon controlled ground. “Hey Jenkins” the woman shouts up into the machine gun cupola, receiving a reply only when the man ceased firing. “Yeah Lt?”

“You getting a good amount of those bitches or are they keepin’ their heads down today?” she asks, the apc taking a sharp turn and almost spilling over before the driver rights it. Mera looks as if she was going to be sick, and Bruce, slowly, reaches out to take her hand, hoping to comfort her without being seen. She squeezes his hand harshly, indeed being calmed by his touch. 

“No more than usual Lt” the man retorts before returning to firing and picking targets. Quinn sighs to herself and looks out at the men down the rows from her. “Alright, that means the Amazons aren’t involved in the attack on the hospital” she explains. “If they were? Well, they’d be out in full force. Jenkins is only killin’ a few of ‘em today, so it looks like we’re just going after fishies” she teases, casting a critical look at Queen Mera, who only scowls at the former villainesses’ use of an anti Atlantean slur.

“Anywho, yeah, we’z goin’ to be in the shit boys and girls. Sure hope ya had your wheaties this morni’”.

“Quinn” Bruce interjects. “What do we know about the Atlanteans assaulting the hospital? Did we get any intel?”

There hadn’t been much time to fully appraise the situation before they had to launch themselves into action. “Except for the fact that blondie is leadin’ ‘em?” she asks with a shrug. “Nuthin’. We do know that comms were cut last night and they only got ‘em back for a little while this mornin’ but since then? Nada. They need relief” she says, the sound of intense combat getting closer and closer, indicating that at least some of the defenders at the hospital were still holding. 

Bruce just nods, readying himself for combat as the apcs come to a slow stop. The back door opens, and the soldiers rush out, rifles already primed and ready. “Alright, come on ya apes!” Harley shouts, rushing out of the rear end of the troop transport. “Make momma proud of yas!”

Her exhortation is met with loud shouts and applause, the men cheering her on as they instantly begin picking targets, having snuck up on the Atlanteans from behind. Harley rushes forward and jumps onto the hood of a destroyed car, using the momentum to carry her into the air. She somersaults and at the same time, throws a grenade which lands amongst a trio of Atlantean soldiers. Before any could get a bead on her or even turn to face the new threat, it explodes, practically vaporizing them and sending body parts flying. 

Harley lands and gracefully bows, her rifle still clutched in her hand. “Thank ya! Thank ya! I’ll be here till you’re all dead!” she shouts, Deadshot saddling up alongside of her and lining up kills with the perfect precision he was known for. “Everyone get out of the other one fine sweetie?” Harley asks, ducking behind some fallen masonry before letting out a burst of automatic rifle fire that fells a charging Atlantean. 

“Yup. Vernon got hit in the thigh, but the doc is patching him up” he says simply, already being in the zone for killing. “Good” she says, looking out towards the destroyed hospital. “Looks like we still got boys firing from the third floor! Gotta get to ‘em!” she shouts, rushing forward and slamming the butt of her rifle into another Atlantean’s throat. The crazies follow them, and Batman and Mera aren’t far behind. 

Mera scans the battlefield, her eyes desperately looking for Arthur as she craves a confrontation with him. Bruce is focused on the hospital, dead set on saving lives as usual. A batarang is in his hand, flying through the air and into the forearm of an advancing soldier, knocking him to the ground. The man moves for his side arm, a pulse blaster, not being fully incapacitated. Before Bruce can end the man for good, a long tendril of water advances out of a puddle and wraps around the man, snapping his arms in a grotesque fashion. 

The man screams out in pain, the tattered remains of his limbs being completely useless. Bruce turns to see Mera, her hands splayed out as an indicator that she had used her powers. She looked grim, determined and most of all angry. “Batman!” she shouts. “Do you see Arthur?”

The duo continue on past the first line of defense which had most likely been abandoned earlier in the night. Bodies were strewn everywhere, making it clear that the defenders had forced the Atlanteans to pay dearly for every inch of ground. He hoped to see Arthur’s body among the fallen, but he knew they wouldn’t get that lucky.

“No!” he shouts back, jumping into a trench and surprising two wounded Atlanteans who were obviously using the cover to rest. He wouldn’t have done anything to them if the first one hadn’t risen and rushed him with a dagger. Bruce easily side steps the attack and grabs the man by his helmet, slamming him into the wall of the trench and breaking the air tight tubing that kept the lowborn hydrated above the waves. He begins to suffocate, falling to his knees and reaching up to his helmet, desperate to staunch the loss of water. 

Batman continues on, not bothering with the second Atlantean who was now cowering on the ground, his hands raised above his head to prevent the Gotham based vigilante from any further reprisals. Mera jumps into the trench besides him and steps over the fallen men. 

“Hey Bats, ya hear me?” Harley calls over the intercom. Bruce brings his hand up and activates the ear piece. “Quinn, what’s your position?” he asks, having already lost track of the crazies in the chaos outside of the hospital. “We’re in the lobby. It’s a massacre. They killed everyone” she says, barely disguised rage in her voice.

Bruce ignores it, but he feels the same anger within him. The hospital had been treating everyone, men, women and children. “Do you have a location for Aquaman?” he ask, stepping out of the abandoned trench and moving towards the hospital’s entrance, most Atlantean resistance having been splintered by the two pronged assault.    
  


“We don’t, but there are a whole lotta…”

“I’m right here Bruce” a voice snarls from within the hospital, Aquaman exiting through the lobby with a squirming woman’s head in his hands. “Please...no” she says, kicking desperately to get away from the man who only increases his hold upon her.

Bruce is instantly on guard, a batarang in his hand. “Let her go” he growls, demanding the release of the woman. “Her?” Arthur asks, looking at the woman. “This squirming little insect? Well, seeing as I’ve gotten what I wanted, I suppose I can be magnanimous” he says, tossing the woman away and letting her limp body scuttle in the dirt. Arthur wastes no time and begins to step down the stairs, his trident gripped in his hands.

“I’m going to kill you Bruce” he says, his eyes finally settling in shock at Mera’s presence beside the man. “Mera” he snarls in anger, his teeth gritting against one another. “Husband” she says, conjuring up two more tendrils of dirty water from the puddles on the battlefield around them. “I had assumed you’d be here. I just thought the surface dwellers would’ve killed you already” he says.

Mera’s eyes narrow as she glares at the man who she had once shared a bed with, all traces of that love gone. “No. They aren’t animals like you Arthur. No...scratch that. Even animals care for their young” she snarls.

She is about to advance before Bruce holds her back, a gesture with his hand preventing her from surging forward. “Quinn” he calls out on the intercom. “Aquaman snuck past you. He must’ve doubled back” he says, ignoring the blonde man for a second. 

The response crackles in over the radio, though it was hard to hear over the sound of gunfire. “Dammit. Sorry Bats. We can’t help ya now. We’re on the second floor. Survivors are one floor above us but the fishies won’t let us through” she says, stopping to let out a burst of automatic fire. 

“Don’t worry, we can take him. Save as many as you can” he orders, deciding to throw the batarang at Arthur’s head. “Roger dodger Brucey. Ohh, and tell fish bitch” she says, referring to Mera who heard her over the intercom. “Tell her to kick Aquajerk in the nuts”.

Before Bruce can say anything Mera rushes forward, the tendrils of water advancing with her. “My pleasure” she says, prompting Batman to join her in her charge forward. He lets the batarang loose, hoping to land a hit on Arthur’s temple. It doesn’t work, and the man instead deflects the piece of metal with a swing of his trident. The distraction is enough though, and Mera wraps one of tendrils around his leg, pulling him down to the ground. 

She jumps, wanting to bring the hell of her foot down on his skull. 

Unfortunately, Arthur was quicker, and he rolls away, leaving her to crush an empty bit of ground. While she is disoriented and unsure of his location, he thrusts his trident up, hoping to spear her in the back. Just as the points are about to make contact, Bruce fires his batclaw, which wraps around the sign of his authority over Atlantis and tugs it away. Arthur lets out a roar of anger and instead sweeps his free leg, bringing Mera to the ground.

He moves shakily to his legs, pulling Batman to him with his superhuman strength and crashing his fist against the mans ribs. Bruce is shaken, but his armor takes most of the impact. Still, it hurt, and he falls to his knees, trying to catch his breath. Arthur looms over him, trident poised downwards, ready to strike and claim his long awaited goal. 

“You know Bruce” he says, not being able to prevent himself from gloating. “I think I’ll remember this moment the most when I fuck your wife” he says causing Bruce to snarl as he looks up at him, trying to regain his footing. “Maybe I’ll do it in the batcave. Or maybe? I’ll do it over your parents grave, just to show them how their son failed at everything he tried” he says, getting ready for the killing blow.

Bruce readies himself, secretly retracting another batarang which he intended to thrust up into the man’s stomach, tearing out his innards in the process. 

A water tendril reaches out, glints of steel being caught in the sun as it slices down, taking four of the man’s fingers with it. “Ahhh” he screams, dropping his trident and turning to see his wife, blood dripping from her lips due to her fall against the asphalt. “You bitch!” Arthur shouts, trying to reach down and grasp the trident with his still intact hand. Bruce takes that moment to lunge forward and stab the tip of batarang into the man’s flesh. 

Artillery, Atlantean, impacted against the dirt at that exact moment, shaking the entire area and throwing Bruce’s aim off. Instead it lands in Aquaman’s thigh, wedging itself into the flesh and causing the man to howl in anger. With a swift kick, his foot impacts against Bruce’s jaw, sending him flying. 

“Batman!” Mera shouts fearfully, thrusting herself forward with her tendrils and punching the man right on the chin, sending him careening back. Arthur stops to wipe some of the blood away from his lips, his teeth having been loosened by the impact. Mera places herself in between Arthur and Bruce, openly protecting the vigilante. “Ohh, how sweet. Protecting your weak little friend?” Arthur mocks to which Mera smiles sadistically. 

“More than my friend Arthur, pretender to the throne” she says, deciding to extract revenge on Bruce’s behalf. “My lover. And ohh what a skilled lover he is. So much pleasure in one night. I didn’t need to fake it as I did with you” she says, embellishing the truth when it came to her sex life with Arthur but not lying at all when it came to Bruce. “He knows exactly how to touch a woman. Unfortunately for you, you’ll never learn. Not with the lack of fingers you now have”.

“I’ll slit you open and skin you alive!” Arthur shouts, reaching down to pick up the fallen trident. Mera’s eyes are instantly drawn to it, and they indeed lock onto it. “That belongs to my son” she says evenly. “Your son? The only thing that makes him a claimant to the throne is me. He is your whelp, which makes him weak. Not a true Atlantean” he says.

Mera is hurt by the words, though she hides it well. Instead, she channels it into anger, noticing how Bruce had gotten to his feet and was now once more by her side. ‘Right where you want him’ her mind whispers.

“He is your son Arthur” she says. “You should love him. The man I fell in love with so long ago would never have turned his back on his own child”.

“That man was foolish, and didn’t realize what power was and what it took to wield it. I’ll make you a deal” he says. “You die, and Arthur can live as one of my servants, and a servant to Diana and I’s children. A testament to the weakness of your bloodline, and the folly of someone great mingling with a common whore”.

“No deal” Bruce says, fuming now, his mind set upon the maximum amount of violence he could inflict on the man. 

“My son is no servant” Mera says, conjuring up even more tendrils. “He is a true king, and if you do not die during this war, I’ll ensure that you serve as a foot stool to him”.

Arthur snarls and holds the trident before him, trying to keep it steady with his destroyed hand as well. “I can’t wait to tell him that his mother was so selfish as to sacrifice his life for her own hubris” he says, wasting not another second before he charges forward, intent on skewering the two heroes who stood against him. His rage made him sloppy, something Bruce was quick to take advantage of. He rushes forward and jumps, pining the forks of the trident to the ground and driving it into the soil with the force of impact. He moves further up the shaft and slams his fist straight into the Atlantean king’s face, driving him back and forcing him to relinquish the trident.

It remains upright, wedged into the ground. 

The same can’t be said for Arthur, who was now on the ground, the shattered remains of his nose having been pushed back into his face. Blood gushed and flew freely down his cheeks and lips. Mera steps forward and pulls the weapon out, turning it to that the forks faced up into the sky. She runs her fingers over the shaft and smiles. “Hmm, I can’t wait to present this to my son. To show him the kingdom that his mother and the Batman won by combat for him” she teases. “I’ll be sure to prop it up against the wall next to the bed while Bruce and I go at it like animals” she teases, regarding the man as no more than a nuisance at this point.

“Atlantis will never be his” Arthur snarls, unable to get to his feet, the pain being too much at this moment for him to bear. “Not the son of a halfblood whore who debases herself with surface dwellers”.

“Did you not forget that you’re the son of a lighthouse keeper?” she teases. “Your father would be so ashamed of you, or is that a fact you conveniently push under the rug?”

The low rumble of Artillery can be heard, and Bruce looks out towards Gotham bay, watching as the Atlantean vessels open fire. Mera seems not to notice, and instead races the trident over Aquaman, ready to end his life. “You had it all” she says, tears dripping down her face. “A wife who loved you like nothing else, a son who once adored your entrance into the room and a kingdom that was prosperous and peaceful. Friends and family. Burn in hell for what you did Arthur!” she screams.

Aquaman just smiles, having seen the salvos incoming.

“Not before the entire world does” he retorts. 

“Mera get down!” Bruce shouts, rushing forward and grasping the woman by the midsection, using their forward momentum to carry them into a trench. He wraps his arms and cape about her, huddling close to protect her from the shells. He looks out, glaring as the wounded Atlantean king scuttles away, the shells kicking up so much dirt and dust that he couldn’t get a bead on the retreating and now embarrassed king.

Mera was no longer interested, instead she huddled into Bruce, her eyes focused on the trident. Tears slowly emanate down her cheeks and she smiles, turning to Bruce and kissing him passionately. “This, is how we will win the war” she says triumphantly. “Now, Arty is king and he owes it all to you” she says, unable to resist as she leans back in to kiss him. 

Bruce pulls her tight, distracting himself from the barrage by tasting her lips, though both got a bit of the coppery taste of blood in their mouths. Neither minded, wanting to instead relish in their victory. 

‘He’s been beaten, but he’s not down yet’ he thinks, trying to keep himself grounded while exploring the redhead’s mouth. It was becoming all the harder to stay focused though, and soon he lost himself in the rapture of her scent and taste. 

He was going to make love to the woman again tonight, something he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist. His further thought was how the trident would look laying besides Arty’s crib, the new king sleeping peacefully with his thumb in his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So before I get a message screeching about Tula and Orm being related, half siblings, I decided to switch up that fact here for this story. They will be NON related, with Tula having been adopted by Orm's father, Orvax, who married Queen Atlanna. Again NO INCEST in this story. I went with Tula because she was the only one who made sense based on the position of royalty and in the context of Orm's coup.


End file.
